m  ■  i 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


/ 


oc 


John  Smith,  Democrat: 

HIS  TWO  DAYS'  CANVASS 

(Sunday  /ncludec/) 

FOR  THE  OFFICE  OF  MAYOR 


OF    THE    CITV    OF 


9  M 


iJWW^ 


BY    BETTERSWORTH. 


Exitus    acta    probai. — ov.  her.,  2,85. 


PRINTED  AND  BOUND  BY  H.  W.  ROKKER, 

8PRINGFIKLD,  ILL,. 
1877. 


COPYRIGHTED    SEPT.    (;,    1877,    BY   ALEXANDER  P.  BETTERS- 
WORTH.     ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 


NOTE. 

[strictly  confidential.] 

Mr.  Publisher:  John  made  me  promise  if  I  should 
ever  have  this  MS.  printed  that  I  w^ould  explain  his 
present  views,  as  he  anticipates,  like  one  or  two 
other  American  citizens,  to  be  "dragged  out"  again  for 
some  office,  by  "many  voters."  He  don't  wish  it  un- 
derstood that  he  applies  these  old  by-gone  charges  of 
little  things  to  his  present  constituency.  Not  at  all; 
he  wishes  them  to  imderstand  that  he  has  a  larger 
opinion  of  their  qualifications  as  workers  and  voters 
now;  and  with  all  the  advantages  they  have  enjoyed 
in  the  meantime  of  a  liberal  political  education,  he  is 
certain  that  in  the  next  canvass  he  can  confidently  look 
for  vastly  bigger  things.  Comprehensively,  against 
no  particular  nationality  that  exercises  a  controlling  in- 
fluence in  politics,  he  brings  no  particular  charge  of  no 
particular  corruption.      This   sweeping  disavowal    he 

hopes  satisfactory. 

Amanuensis. 

P.  S.     T  find  among  John's  stack  of  political  papers 


738939 


VI 


NOTE. 


a  small  cartoon.     It  may  be  an   outline  of  something 
to  come  hereafter.     Here  it  is: — 

A  BRIEF  SKETCH 
Of  the   Controlling  hifluences  in 

AMERICAN    POLITICS, 

Or  a  succinct  view  of  the  strongest  political  arguments 
employed  by  the  Four  Controlling  Nationalities: 

Au£lo-American.  Hikrniau.   Teutonic  anfl  African. 

ARGUMENTS    ARGUMENTS.    ARGUMENTS.    ARGUMENTS. 

Pro — Co7i.        Pro — Con.  Pro — Con.       Pro — Con. 


The  Anglo  American  adverse  argument  was  left 
out  of  John's  canvass,  as  there  w^asn't  time  to  mobilize 
it.  The  argumenta  Africana,  of  the  very  small  mule 
in  the  extreme  distance,  with  the  incisive  adverse  in 
the  fore-ground,  also  took  no  part,  for  the  simple  rea- 
son that  the    XVth    Amendment   hadn't    then    taken 

effect. 

A. 


INTRODUCTION. 


BY    AMANUENSIS. 


I  am  a  factotem;  that  is,  cashier,  teller,  chief  clerk, 
book  keeper,  and  janitor  of  a  moneyed  institution 
called  the  ^'  Imperial  Grand  National  Bank  of  Bunk- 
umville,"  Mulct-all-in  County,  Illinois.  My  salary 
and  literary  attainments  I  can  quote  at  par;  that  is, 
they  are  alike — both  meagre.  After  thus  introducing 
myself,  I  beg,  after  a  few  explanatory  and  apologetic 
remarks,  to  present  to  you  my  old  democratic  friend,  , 
John  Smith,  who  desires  to  have  a  confidential  talk 
with — well,  with  somebody.  It  occurred  to  John  that 
he  would  like  this  introduction  and  interview  in  this 
wise.  On  the  I3th  day  of  February,  A.  D.  1877,  dur- 
ing banking  hours,  I  received  over  the  counter  of  the 
"Imperial  Grand  National,"  the  following  note: 

Friend  Jamie: 

My  wife  and  the  children  are  going  south  to  attend,  on  St. 
Valentine's  day,  the  marriage  ceremony,  festivities,  etc. ;  of  a 
female  relative.  They  will  be  absent  a  fortnight.  Now,  Jamie, 
I  want  you  to  come  o'nights  and  "Bach"  and  help  keep  awa' 
the  spooks  an'  bogles  o'  solitary  ennui.  You  shall  have  res  to 
feast  on,  and  a  very  slow  of  bowl,  or  soul,  as  you  may  elect;  the 
bowl  too  thin  for  drinking,  and  the  soul  too  sluggish  for  think- 
ing purposes.     Say  yes.     Come  at  7  p,  m.  SMITH. 

As  this  paper  was  gilt-edged  paper,  I  promptly  en- 


VUl  INTRODUCTION. 

dorsed    my    acceptance,  and    returned   it   by  the   mes- 
senger. 

That  evening  I  was  ushered  into  John's  sitting  room, 
where  I  found  him  comfortably  seated  in  an  arm 
rocker,  on  one  side  of  the  round  table,  which  with 
books  and  papers  was  profusely  covered,  and  a  vacant 
rocking  chair  on  the  opposite  side,  for  me.  A  cheer- 
ful coal  fire,  in  an  ample  grate,  gave  warmth  and  ani- 
mation to  all  around.  As  soon  as  I  was  seated,  John 
went  off  in  a  tirade  against  the  electoral  complications. 
He  wanted  to  know  if  I  thought  the  electoral  commis- 
sion would  render  a  decision  as  satisfactory  to  both 
parties  as  the  bill  seemed  to  indicate.  I  answered,  I 
didn't  know.  Whereupon  he  declared,  throwing  down 
the  paper  he  had  been  reading,  that  he  had  lost  all 
confidence  in  American  politics  and  politicians!  This 
led  us  to  a  discussion  of  the  newspaper  reports  of  the 
whole  affair,  from  the  day  of  the  presidential  election 
down  to  that  date,  i2th  February,  'yy.  We  com- 
mented, growled  and  laughed,  alternately,  at  the  unsat- 
isfactory statements  of  the  papers;  the  contradictory 
returns;  the  "ways  that  were  dark"  of  returning 
boards;  the  soothing  reports,  majority  antl  minority,  of 
senate  and  house,  of  congressional  investigating  com- 
mittees; the  fruitful  efforts  of  the  partisan  delegations 
of  prominent  politicians  from  the  north  and  west,  and, 
lastly,  the  electoral  bill  and  its  result,  as  secured  through 
the  final  decision  of  its  high  court  commission. 

At  this  time  the  reader  (I've  hypothecated  this  one, 
if  John  don't  have  another  one,)  knows  that  public  ex- 
citement had  been  wound  up  to  its  highest  tension  by 
the  tantalizing  aggravations  of  hope  deferred;  and  the 
pendulum  stroke  of  public  interest,  from   its  comprc- 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

hensive  sweep  from  Maine  U>  I AUiisiaiia,  hatl  been  iii- 
tensifiedly  circumscril)e(l  in  its  oscillations  of  Rep^ — 
Dem — Rep — Deni.  li>  tlie  narrow  limits  of  tlie  j^rand 
commission;  when  all  of  us,  with  hated  hreatli,  were 
waiting,  as  day  hy  day  its  \  ibrations  were  lessening, 
to  see  which  i)arty  occupied  the  dead  point  of  truth, 
where  it  would  at  last  rest.  Such  was  the  time  I  went 
to  stay  o'  nights  with  John. 

|ohn  cynically  says,  that  pendulum  stopped  on  one 
side  of  the  dead  point  of  truth.  He  don't  blame  the 
pendulum,  because  somebotly  made  a  veiy  small  brad 
lie  on  one  side  of  it,  and  thus  destroyed  its  integrity; 
and,  besides,  the  point  occupied  by  truth  at  that  time 
was  so  very  dead  that  the  pendulum  was  justifiable  in 
leaning  to  the  side  of  the  infinitesimal  weight. 

After  our  discussion  we  resumed  reading;  had  been 
some  moments  so  engaged,  wdien  John  threw  down 
his  paper  and  startled  me  with  a  hearty — 

"Ha!   ha!   ha!'' 

"What  amuses  you  so?"   I  asked. 

"I  was  comparing." 

"What?     How?" 

"Some  occurrences  in  my  political  experience  nine 
years  ago,  with  similar,  though  greatly  magnified 
transactions  of  the  present  day.  The  comparison  is 
suggestive  of  Gulliver's*  Traxels,  Lilliputians,  and 
Brobdignagians.  1  liad  fallen  into  a  reverie,  wherein 
it  seemed  my  little  acquaintances  (»f  years  ago  were 
swallowed,  boots  and  all,  by  the  greedy  giants  of  to- 
day, I  was  not  sorry  at  this  gobbling-up  process,  be- 
cause these  diminutive  parties,  I  knew  long  ago,  to  be 
vicious  little  rascals,  and  tleserved  no  better  fate.  On 
looking  closer  at   the  huge   beings  who  had  done  this 


X  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

good  service,  I  was  astonished  to  see  that  they  were 
my  quondam  httlc  fellows,  grown  to  full  maturity,  and 
cannibal-like,  were  fattening  on  all  the  small  fry  of 
their  kind.  Here,  the  paper  falling,  cut  short  the  rev- 
erie, and  I  laughed  at  its  grotesqueness.  I  have 
wished,  many  times,  1  had  a  record  of  the  ludicrous 
and  serious  mishaps  and  misconstructions  of  that  short 
canvass  for  the  mayoralty  of  the  city  of  Bunkumville. 
It  was  only  two  days,  Sunday  included,  but  it  seemed 
two  years  to  me.  I  was  green,  yea,  very  green,  in 
politics,  and  knew  absolutely  nothing  of  wire-working 
or  an}'  kind  of  political  juggling;  but  did  the  best  I 
could  to  make  the  race  fairly  and  honestly.  You 
would  hardly  believe,  were  I  to  tell  you,  how  much 
those  little  annoyances  milled  my  then  vnisophisticated 
mind.  They  were  huge  then,  as  giant-like  as  they 
suddenly  grew  in  my  reverie." 

A. — "If  you  can  recollect  these  campaign  occurren- 
ces, and  wish  a  record,  I'll  act  as  your  amanutnsis; 
devoting  half  hour  each  night  to  the  task;  what  do 
you  say  ?" 

"Oh,  whenever  you  write  anything,  yon  want  it 
jDublishcd — I  don't  want  people  to  know  just  how  sim- 
ple I  was — and  it  hasn't  been  so  long  ago  as  *•  time  out 
of  mind.'  As  to  recollecting,  if  you  Unew  the  depth 
of  those  impressions,  ^\\^^\  should  see  the  pile  ol  j^apers 
I -saved  relating  (hereto,  youM  desire  to  back  down 
from  too  much  reeolkcted  material,  rat  her  t  han  for 
lack  of  it." 

A. — "Til  risk  the  \\.-rk.      1  )o  you  agree?" 
"1    doiTt    care,  we    can,  at    least,  amuse  ourselves  on 
these  oltl  memories." 


INTKODUCTION.  XI 

A. — "T^ct  us  be  systematic.  Fourteen  nlGjlits;  four- 
teen parts,      liet^inningr  to-ni<4"ht." 

[ohn  placed  wrltin^i^  materials;  took  his  seat,  and 
said-^ 

"Well?" 

A.— "Ready?" 

"Yes." 

A.— "And  now,  gentle,  hypothetical  reader,  allow 
me  to  present,  substantially,  in  the  first  night's  inler- 
view,  the  chief  narrator  


John  Smith,  DiiMocRAT. 


NIGHT  I. 


JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 


How  do  30U  do;  Mr.  Hyijothetlcal  Reader?  I'm 
happy  to  make  your  acquaintance.  Oh!  its  immate- 
rial about  shaking  your  hand;  but  do  not  misconstrue 
my  motive,  as  aristocratic  recoil  from  plebeian  contact; 
oh!  no;  T(>hn  Smith,  democrat,  shakes  hands  with 
every  body — you  are  aware,  that  your  hypothetical 
hand  is  not  sufficiently  materialized;  in  vulgar  par- 
lence,  it's  "too  thin"  for  a  tangible,  hearty  shake;  yet, 
allow  me  to  say  that  I  doubt  not,  it  would  be  put 
forth  with  quite  as  much  zeal  and  power,  to  assist 
me  in  emergencies,  as  the  more  materialized  hands 
of  a  majority  of  my  friends  and  acquaintances. 
At  least,  I  can  assure  you,  that  I  can  rely  on 
it,  when  I  need  a  helping  hand,  with  the  same 
confidence  of  succor.  You  needn't  mind  about  a 
hearty  verbal  response  to  my  cheery  "how  do  you 
do?"  I  fully  comprehend  your  feelings;  your  inex- 
pressible emotions:  you  know  one  of  the  greatest 
poets  once  found  himself  in  a  similar  fix — although  an 
other  voluble  child  of  song  said  of  him,  that 

"^As  some  vast  river  of  unfailing  source — 
Rapid,  deep  and  exhaustless  his  numbers  flowed." 


1^  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT, 

Yet  this  same  rapid,  deep,  exhaustless  and  unfailing 
gentleman  was  once  in  your  very  predicament,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  testimony,  to-wit: 


"Could  I  embody  and  unbosom  now 

That  which  is  most  within  me, -could  I  wreak 

My  thoughts  upon  expression,  and  thus  throw 

Soul,  heart,  mind,  passions,  feelings, strong  or  weak. 

All  that  I  would  have  sought,  and  all  I  seek, 

Bear,  know,  feel,  and  yet  breathe — into  one  word 

And  that  one  Avord  were  Lightning,  I  would  speak; 

But  as  it  is,  I  live  and  die  unheard 

With  a  most  voiceless  thought,  sheathing  it  as  a  sword." 

So  you  see  I  fully  appreciate  your  soul,  heart,  mind, 
passions,  feelings,  strong  or  weak — and  would  here 
beg  of  you,  in  view  of  some  of  these  unspeakable 
emotions,  although  they  are  voiceless  thoughts,  don't, 
I  entreat  you,  if  uol  for  my  sake,  then  for  the  love  of 
mankind — don't  sheathe  them  as  a  sword.  Byron 
wasn't  much  to  blame  if  he  carried  an  arsenal  of  voice- 
lesss  thoughts  in  his  soul;  liut  you,  my  hypothetical 
friend,  have  neither  justification  nor  need  of  such  an 
armory  of  concealed  weapons.  Don't  think  I'm  slyly 
disarming  you  of  a  trenchant  criticism;  as  my  motive 
is  not  cowardly  apprehension,  hut  rather,  manly  can- 
dor. I  have  known  many  a  time,  when  a  man  or 
woman  was  basking,  aye,  reposing  in  the  sunny  confi- 
de ucc  of  iViends  and  ac<|uaintances,  one  ol'  tiiese 
voiceless  thoughts,  thai  had  been  sheathed  as  a  sword, 
to  leap  suil(liiil\  tVoin  its  scabbard  and  deal  indiscrimi- 
iKilc  (lest  nutlou,  liglil  and  K'fl.  ^'olI  |)ul  that  voice- 
less thought  away,  as  a  swonl,  to  rust  in  its  peacefid 
scabbard,  but  stress  of  circumslames,  \\  ill  certainly, 
so*)n(  r  or    later,  pron)pt    yon,  unthoughtedh     to   draw 


•       JOHN   SMITH,   DEMOCRAT.  15 

it,  because  it's  so  handy  you  see,  and  strike  a  fatal  blow 
at  your  best  friend.  Would  it  be  over  cautious  pre- 
sumption on  so  sliorl  an  accjuaintancc  for  me  to  ask, 
if  you  are  armed  now?  Do  you  carry  concealed 
weapons?  Don't  understand  me  as  thinking  that  you 
would  intentionally  injure  me,  or  any  one  else,  but  you 
are  aware  that  serious,  yes,  shocking  accidents  frequent- 
ly result  from  such  a  habit,  through  carelessness.  On 
the  -whole,  I  think  the  best  and  safest  plan  is,  if  you 
have  such  voiceless  thoughts  as  can  be  sheathed  as  a 
sword,  to  pluck  them  out  and  cast  them  away;  for  if 
they  do  nobody  else  an  injury,  they  will  seriously  in- 
jure you,  by  fretting  and  festering  the  soul  with  irrita- 
tion and  rust.  Now  some  of  our  best  thoughts  and 
emotions  are  voiceless,  but  they  can't  be  sheathed  as 
swords — but  rather  2:)lanted,as  olive  branches.  I  hope 
I'm  not  presuming  too  much  on  your  friendship,  when 
I  take  your  taciturn  greeting  to  "embody,"  if  it  don't 
"unbosom,"  all  the  oli\e-branch  kind  of  voiceless 
thoug-hts,  and  not  one  that  can  be  sheathed  as  a  sword. 
With  this  mutual  understanding,  we  will  proceed. 
Let  me  see,  I  have  done  for  you,  on  brief  acquaintance, 
all  that  any  friend  could  do.  I  have  vested  you  with 
all  the  attributes  of  a  living,  moving,  breathing  en- 
tity. As  the  spiritualists  would  term  it,  I  have  ma- 
terialized you,  and  1  propose  to  address  you  hereafter, 
as  in  the  body,  a  material  being.  We  have  discussed 
voiceless  thoughts,  let  us  turn  to  others. 

"Critics!" 

Critics?  Your  fust  apprehensive  whisper?  Speak 
out.  May  lie  you  haven't  felt  the  full  force  of  the 
soul,  and  heart,  and  mind  I  gave  you?  It  will  come 
right.     Don't  be  afraid.     I  see  your  mind  does  well  in 


l6  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

the  selection  of  parties  who  never  deal  in  voiceless 
thoughts,  but  a  large  proportion  of  them,  are  heav)' 
operators,  in  thoughtless  voices.  When  they  have 
thoughts,  they  always  manage  to  "wreak*"  them  upon 
"expression,"  and  never  sheathe  them  as  swords,  but 
mostly,  draw  them  as  broadswords  and  throw  the 
scabbards  away.  You  must  not  let  this  broadsword 
practice,  on  expressible  opinions  and  sentiments, 
frighten  you  out  of  the  soul  and  mind  I  gave  3'ou.  It 
shall  not  frighten  me  from  telling  my  brief  political 
experience.  You  know,  and  more  do  the  critics,  that 
there  is  a  vast  tlifference  between  political  and  po- 
lite literature,  between  bulldozing  and  belles  letters; 
this  may  be  due  to  the  impurity  of  politics.  Stal- 
wart critics  know,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  skin 
some  animals,  even  that  are  not  -politicians,  without 
getting  in  bad  odor  with  certain  kid  gloved  dissecters 
whose  province  it  is  to  fastidiously  remove  the  orna- 
mental velvety  dust  from  butterflies'  wings.  When 
you  whisper  critic,  don't  mistake  plain  John  Smith  for 
a  butterfly.  I  have  endowed  you  with  an  average 
mind,  and  if  I  say  some  hard  things  in  a  very  binigling 
way,  1  shall  claim  the  merit  of  meaning,  just  what  1 
say,  and  further,  disclaim  anv  intention  of  apologizing 
for  it;  unless  I  can't  dodge  the  apology. 

Between  the  reckless  broadswords-men  and  the 
Miss-Nancyish  butterfly  anatomists  there  is  a  small 
corps  of  genuine  reviewers,  whom  I  respect,  and  fear; 
but  they  use  the  bright,  keen  blade  of  tiie  skillful  sur- 
geon. I  have  used  such  knives  lileraliv,  and  ne\er 
heard  a  groan,  nor  thought  of  hurting  my  patient.  1 
heard  nothing;  saw  nothing;  knew  nothing  but  my 
urgent  duty,  and  careel  Ibi   nothing  e\ce|)t  its  rapiil  and 


JOHN    SMI  I  II,    DEMOCRAT.  I  7 

sUilllul  pciibimancc.  If  Jamie  should,  after  liis  beiU, 
drag  these  memoirs  into  print,  T  want  the  necessary 
pruning  done  by  such  skiUful  hands  as  I've  last  men- 
tioned.* 

Attain  literary  success?  Never  thought  of  such  a 
thing.  We,  Jamie  and  I,  are  only  amusing  ourselves. 
I  have  the  fun  and  Jamie  does  the  work.  You  must 
know  the  great  "Sesame"  of  literary  success  is  closed 
with  a  combination  lock;  whether  a  combination  of 
critics,  editors,  j^nblishers  or  circumstances,  one,  or  all, 
I  can't  say.  Any  how,  it  appears  that  an  analysis  of 
the  combination  is  rather  the  result  of  a  lucky  accident 
than  the  systematic  progress,  from  ward  to  ward, 
through  the  orthographic,  or  other  graphic  intricacies 
of  a  cabalistic  key-word.  To  nearly  all  of  the  thou- 
sands of  anxious  tuggers  at  the  knob,  armed  with  all 
sorts  of  original  and  '■'■ad-ovigiunV  key-words,  "Sesa- 
me" remains  obstinately  closed.  If  one  makes  a  hit 
he  is  himself  as  much  astonished  as  was  Atahualpa 
when  he  discovered  the  great  mines  of  Peru.  Although 
I  should  sufFer  Jamie  to  drag  out  my  reluctant  consent 
to  have  these  political  memoirs  published,  and  it  should 
bankrupt  the  house  that  undertook  the  first  edition,  1 
can  console  myself  with  the  modest,  and  certainly  re- 
tiring reflection,  that  politics  and  literature  are  alike  in 
one  respect;  that  is,  the  best  men  in  both  tlei)artments 
are  left  out;  as  the  stately  McCauley  would  express  it, 
"by  the  savage  envy  of  aspiring  dunces."  Vide:  our 
greatest  statesmen,  Clay,  Webster,  Calhoun,  Sumner, 
Douglas,  and  Benton,  none  of  whom  could  ever  be 
president  for  the  reason  aforesaid.  "English  Bards 
and  Scotch  Reviewers"  was  the  last  shot  fired  at  a  lit- 
erary mo1),  by  one  of  the  immortal  poets,  before  he 
v5 


1 8  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

left  his  native  land  forever.  Now,  my  dear  hypothet 
— no,  actual  reader,  if  I  should  essay  to  open  this  lite- 
rarv  treasure-house,  I  should  consult  John  Ruskin  or 
Ralph  Emerson.  These  master  spirits,  so  far  as  can 
be  known,  adopted  an  original,  and  entirelv  unlooked- 
for  mode  of  attack,  that  disconcerted  the  allied  army 
at  the  very  onset.  They  marched  boldly  up,  with 
cryptographic  orders,  and  with  continuous  volleys  from 
well  masked  batteries,  routed  the  enemy,  horse,  foot 
and  dragoon.  Their  keys  were  skeleton  keys,  of 
"marvelous  workmanship  and  curious  twist;"  their  key 
words  cryptograms.  They  leisurely  tried  key  after  key, 
and  secret  combinations,  one  after  another,  till  they 
opened  "Sesame,'"  and  reveled  in  its  treasures.  For 
some  time  after  this  complete  rout  you  might  hear  of 
a  strictly  contidential  conference  held  by  two  or  three 
of  the  woinided  critics  over  fragments  of  missiles  that 
they  had  picketl  out  of  their  thick  heads;  all  eyeing 
critically  the  pieces;  all  wondering  what  they  were, 
and  all  giving  it  up  with  a  sad  shake  of  the  head. 
Their  only  chance  for  re-organization  was  to  give  these 
incomprehensibles  a  wide  l)erth;  either  say  nothing  or 
praise  immoderately;  and  now,  nearly  the  whole  re- 
organized army  regards  these  oracular  heroes  with  the 
same  reverential  awe,  as  inspireil  good  old  Captain  Cut- 
tle for  Jack  liunsby.  "Whereby,  why  not?  If  so,  what 
odds!  Can  any  man  say  otherwise.'*  No,  Awast  then!" 
A. — "Look  licre,  John,  \<)ur  half  hour  is  one-third 
gone.  I  iiit  niihurd  you  to  this  hypolhetical  readei  to 
encourage  you  with  the  shadow,  because  1  couldn't 
jironiise  the  substance  of  a  real  reader,  ^'on  have-  now 
talked  him  from  the  mythical  to  tiie  real,  with  this 
irrelevant  slull;  and   if  you  jjropose  to  go  on  and  talk 


JOHN    SMiril,    DKMOCKAT.  \g 

him  to  death,  and  rt'inaiid  him  lo  his  disfmlxxhed  state, 
say  so;  hut  I'M  rest  mj'  pen  while  you  are  so  en-. 
gai;e(h" 

'^VVliat  sliall  I  sa}'?  I  mean  in  lliis  ehapter;  after  I 
get  started,  1  ean  go  ahead.''' 

A. — "Well,  as  this  is  to  he  l)ioi^raphieaI,  as  well  as 
political,  it  would  not  he  out  of  place  to  Itrielly  state 
yourhirth;  education;  occupation;  religion,  it' vou  have 
any,  anti  your  conversion  to  democrac\-.  Let  your 
hypothetical  reader  know,  whether  or  not,  your  cardi- 
nal principles  are  well  grounded;  so  he  can  have  an 
idea  of  what  manner  of  man  you  aie,  or  were,  espec- 
ially at  the  time  of  the  occurrences  you  propose  to 
narrate." 

"  Birth?  Yes,  that's  a  fact,  I  haven't  been  Iiorn  once 
yet — though  I  claim  the  second  hirth — as  I  am  a  pro- 
fessor and  believer  in  religion;  and  I  tlon't  mean  b}' 
this  tliiDpant  way  of  stating  it,  any  irreverance  for  such 
sacred  things.  Just  now,  1  have  politics,  religion  and 
nativities,  so  mixed  in  my  thoughts,  that  I  have  to 
make  an  effort  to  separate  them.  I  can  see  now,  the 
apparent  irreverence  attaches  to  the  political  aspect  of 
this  second  nativity.  I  was  thinking  of  the  great  de- 
crease in  the  number  of  such  births  in  the  political 
family;  and  why  the  family  should  utterly  ignore  the 
necessity  of  such  births,  and  still  expect  all  the  mem- 
bers to  be  honest.  Especially  was  my  mind  running 
on  two  classes  of  political  orators,  one  that  cannot 
speak  at  all,  and  the  other  that  can  speak  too  \vell, 
both  utterly  repudiating  the  necessity  of  the  second 
birth,  and  both  standing  sorely  in  need  of  the  same. 
From  the  character  and  eflect  of  their  speeches,  it 
would    be  a   blessing   to   their   respective  parties,   and 


20  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"the  rest  of  mankind,"  if  they  ever  should  be  born 
again,  for  them  to  take  the  good  advice  of  old  Col. 
Geiger  to  some  noisy  roughs  at  a  political  meeting — 
that  to  behave  themselves,  they  must  be  born  again, 
but  for  their  own  sakes,  if  not  for  their  friends  and  the 
Lords — 'to  be  s/i/Z-hovn  next  time.'  " 

A. — "Oh  go  on  and  stop  this  digressive  twaddle." 

"Well  T  will.  I  was  horn  in  the  usual  way;  that  is, 
naturally." 

A. — "Of  poor  hut  honest  parents." 

"Yes,  that's  it,  the  stereotyped  politico-biographical 
nativity.  As  it  suits  my  purpose  as  well  as  any  other, 
I'll  adopt  it;  as  a  good  old  democratic  uncle  adopted 
me,  eleven  months  after,  /><>j/  j^rr  niaJ  i^'fc.  There 
were  seven  boys,  all  democrats;  christened  respec- 
tively, Jack,  Johannes,  Giovanni,  Juan,  Ivan  Yoe  and 
John,  myself.  I  was  the  seventh  son,  antl  of  course 
the  doctor.  My  literary  education  was  lilieral  enough, 
\  did  nothing  but  go  to  school  every  school  day,  and  a 
shooting  or  fishing  Saturdays  and  Sunday — school  and 
church  on  Sunday  ^fhis  was  oithodox  enough  for 
an\-    hoy. 

"At  the  age  of  fourteen  years,  my  moral  and  political 
training  received  an  impetus  that,  I  think,  resulted  in 
'Honest  John  Smith,  democrat.'  ^Fhe  moral  bent  was 
given  in  the  summer,  and  the  political,  in  thi-  fdl  of 
1844^  From  my  present  point  ol"  \  irw,  tliosc  decisive 
inlluences  appear  tiiHing,  just  as  do  xW-  petty  annoy- 
ances of  liie  campaign  I'm  going  to  nan  ate,  hut  at  the 
lime  Ihey  occuire<l,  lhe\'  wiTi-  any  tiling  hul  trilU's  in 
my  estimation.  '\'\\y  ])lastic  moral  stroke  was  dealt  in 
this  wise.  1  attcndrd  Sunday  school  and  church,  as 
l)ef(U-e  stated.      1  had    noticed,  that    ijiiilc    a    number  of 


JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT.  2  1 

the  fj^ood  boys  were  ahsentinj^  themselves  from  ser\  ice 
during  the  long,  warm,  summer  fore-noons.  On  in- 
quiry, I  learned  that  the  fish  were  bigger,  and  more, 
and  bit  better  on  a  still  Sabbath  day  than  on  any 
other  day;  also,  that  swimming  was  undisturbed 
by  the  larger  boys,  who  ducked  us  on  other  days. 
I  saw  but  one  obstacle;  that,  1  had  to  repeat 
the  text  of  the  preacher  to  my  aunt,  as  proof  of 
my  faithful  attendance  on  church.  The  sharper 
boys  laughed  at  me  and  said  they  had  to  do  the  same; 
they  staid  long  enough  to  hear  the  text  read,  then 
started  for  the  creek,  repeating  the  text  every  jump, 
so  as  to  commit  it  well,  and  all  was  right.  The  plan 
struck  me  as  feasible,  and  promised  certain  success. 
My  aunt  was  at  home  with  the  rheumatism,  and  my 
uncle  never  went  to  church;  so  I  had  a  clear  field  for 
my  first  essay.  I  went;  had  a  grand  time,  and  won- 
dered why  T  had  let  such  golden  opportunities  slip  me 
before.  When  1  took  my  seat  at  the  dinner  table  I 
saw  that  my  aunt  was  too  well  dressed  for  much  rheu- . 
matism;  she'd  been  out  some  where.  I  hoped,  to  see 
a  sick  neighbor.  I  asked  if  her  rheumatism  was  bet- 
ter— she  replied  interrogatively,  but  not  so  relatively, 
to  previous  question. 

■'John  did  you  stay  to  cluirch?  What  was  the  text?" 
'^'s'm — Acts  V.  and  3d,  'But  Peter  said,  Ananias, 
why  hath  Satan  liUcd  thine  heart  to  lie  to  the  Holy 
Ghost?'  and,  aunt,  you  jusl  oughter  heard  that  sermon, 
it  was " 

"John,"  indulgently  interrupted  my  uncle,  "didn't  I 
see  you  in  swimming  about  church  time,  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  from  town  ?" 

As  I  never  saw  my   uncle  strolling  down  the  creek 


"J 


22  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

Oil  any  day,  I  doubted  his  ycracity;  it  made  me  shud- 
der to  hear  an  old  man  talk  so  reckless;  and  to  give 
him  a  t^entle  intimation  that  he  was  probably  misrep- 
resenting the  facts,  I  replied,  "A  good  many  of  the 
boys  take  Tom  Eanes  for  me  when  I'm  swimming,  we 
swim  just  alike." 

"Yes,  yon  swim  alike,"  continued  he,  "but  I  think 
Eanes  is  the  best  swimmer.  You  know  he  beat  yon 
all,  every  heat.  You  come  out  third  best  on  t\yo  heats 
and  fourth  on  the  last.  Johnson  and  Martin  aie  good 
swimmers." 

I  didn't  see  any  use  in  being  so  thundering  particular 
about  trifles.  I  was  just  thinking  of  overwhelming 
them  with  ji>\tul  surprise,  like  the  prodigal  son,  or 
Washington,  when  my  aiuit  encouraged  me  in  m\'  res- 
olute course  with  the  remark — 

"John,  I  was  nnself  at  church  this  moining,  and 
looked  for  you;  3'ou  did  not  appear." 

"On  this  hint  1  spake,"  and  like  an  honest  I'oy,  told 
the  truth.  I  see  now,  what  I  then  considered  as  a  dis- 
astrous unfitness  of  tilings,  was  a  saving  clause  to  me. 
It  was  an  effectual  dam  to  the  hi-adlong  curient  of  true 
inwardness,  that  sweeps  a\\a\  all  the  good  intentions 
of  a  boy;  it  diverted  this  current  into  a  rock}',  but  pu- 
rifying channel.  At  first  I  was  afraid  to  lie,  because  I 
thought  I  would  he  snappetl  up  b\  two  \igilant  detect- 
ives, or  stricken  down  like  Ananias  and  Sap]:)hira. 
This  coerciye  iiilhicuce  was  ■^und  till  tin' full  lom-  of 
reasonable,  in<>i;il  ri'straint  tame.  I  (Kii  rniimil  then 
to  be  a  good  man;  never  ti>  emouragc  wickedness, 
meanness,  <ir  unfairness,  or  even  iheir  semblance,  by 
wonl, deed  oi-  implication.  My  greatest  trial  was  the 
loss   of  ]ioj)ularit  \     witli  the    li()\s.      I    fought    through 


JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT.  23 

bravely,  ct>ii.s(>lin<;-  myself  with  the  belief  that  it  vvouUl 
lie  (lilTerent  witli  men ;  they  could  and  would  appre- 
ciate me.  To  my  greater  astonishment  antl  chagrin, 
after  all  my  years  of  manhood's  experience,  I  find  that 
a  large  majority  ol  mankind  don't  lielieve  a  plain,  vir- 
tuous truth,  when  you  tell  it.  For  proof  of  this  asser- 
tion, vide  Greenleaf's  Evidence,  where  he  illustrates 
the  difficulty — yes,  impossibility  of  belief  contrary  to 
experience,  in  the  story  of  the  king  of  Siam,  who  im- 
jjrisoned  the  Dutch  einbassador  for  an  outrageous  liar, 
for  asserting  that  at  a  certain  season,  in  his  country, 
the  rivers  and  lakes  became  so  solid  on  the  surface  that 
wagons  and  teams  could  cross  from  shore  to  shore.  I 
have  found,  like  the  truthful  embassador,  that  it  re- 
quired a  more  comprehensive  experience  than  a  ma- 
jority of  men  had,  to  believe  plain,  virtuous  facts;  and 
also,  like  the  embassador,  I  have  been  punished  by 
the  unbelievers,  when  they,  like  the  incredulous  king, 
had  the  power  to  do  so.  I  nevertheless  clung  \o  my 
determination  to  be  truthful;  and  this  accounts,  to  a 
great  extent,  for  my  sobriquet  of  "Honest."  Although 
it  was  so  acquired,  yet  the  most  of  my  acquaintances 
use  it  rather  derisively  than  complimentary.  This  de- 
termination to  always  be  truthful  and  candid,  will 
account  for  tlie  unheard  of  method  of  electioneering  I 
adopted  in  the  short  canvass  I'm  going  to  narrate. 
Why  can't  this  majority  of  disbelievers,  that  lack  con- 
vincing experience,  be  brought  over  to  the  right  sifle, 
and  leave  a  remnant  of  liars  feeling  so  much  like  out- 
casts, that  they  would  hasten  to  make  an  effort  to 
come  over  into  good  company?" 

A. — "Oh,  John,  you  wish   to   be  a    great    reiormer. 
What  you  wish  can't  be  done." 


24  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"I  tell  v'^"  it  can  be  done,  and  only  in  the  way  I 
speak;  that  is,  for  every  man  who  runs  for  ofHce,  to 
run  as  I  did,  whether  he  gets  elected  or  not.  But  you 
see  every  candidate  thinks  the  slight  d^'^Darture  from 
strict  honesty  in  his  campaign  is  a  small  thing.  It  is 
true,  but  when  it's  multiplied  by  thousands  a  year,  for 
years,  and  compounded,  it  makes  an  incomprehensible 
sum.  Each  one  of  the  contributors  to  this  vast  fund 
contributes  a  mere  pittance  to  churches  and  preachers, 
by  way  of  atonement.  They  expect  the  clergy  alone, 
at  a  far  lower  salary,  to  keep  these  malcontents  straight. 
Its  a  grand  mistake;  because  these  dirty-work  fellows 
dodge  the  preacher,  and  vice  versa,  there's  a  mutual 
repulsion." 

A. — "Oh,  money  is  at  the  bottom." 

"Yes,  and  with  an  eternally  ruinous  balance  against 
the  ministers.     Look   at  this  table: 

FROM    CENSUS. 

Total  clergymen  in  U.  S .)3,S74@$  1,000. . .  .$43,874,000 

"      federal  office  holders 6o,ooo@    :,200. . . .    72,000,000 

"      officials  of  government. ..  .44, 743(rt)    1,000....    44,730,000 


Cr.  officers $116,743,000 

"     clergy 43,874,000 


Actual  balance  against  clergy $72,869,000 

Add  slush  riuul  of  disappointed  candidates 50,000,000 


Grarul  total  against  clergy $122,869,000 

Which  tliink  you  will  beat  in  the  race  where  "inoncy 
makes  the  mare  go.'"  On  such  a  basis  you  see  il  is 
impossible  for  the  clergy  to  do  a  st)imd  aiul  safe  busi- 
ness; that  there  must  l)e  ultimate  general  suspension. 


JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT.  25 

Until  this  account  shows  better  on  the  moral  side  of 
the   balance,  the    political    reformers   of  civil,    or    any 
other  service,  had  better  cease  caviling  and  simply  di- 
vide the  slush  fund  witli  the  half  paid  clergy," 

A. — "John,  do  you  propose,  in  a  short  discourse,  to 
surpass  the  combined  efforts  of  43,874  clergymen?" 

"You  know  I'm  making  no  proposition  to  preach  to 
any  one;  and  as  to  preaching  morality  to  modern  poli- 
ticians, a  man  would  be  as  safely  and  profitably  occujDied, 
were  he  to  stand,  alone,  on  the  Black  Hills,  and  read 
the  'Sermon  on  the  Mount'  to  Messrs.  Sitting  Bull, 
Crazy  Horse,  &  Co.  He  might  get  through  with  his 
remarks,  l)ut  neither  band  would  suffer  him  to  escape 
a  scalping  for  his  foolhardy  temerity.  Enough  of  this 
though.  I  must  state  the  circumstances  and  influences 
that  brought  about  my  political  conversion.  It  was, 
as  before  stated,  in  the  fall  of  1S44,  when  Polk  and 
Clay  were  rival  candidates  for  the  presidency.  The 
foundation  of  my  political  creed  may  be  considered 
unsound;  flimsy;  but  from  after  years  of  experience 
and  observation,  I  have  concluded  it  was  as  firm  and 
reasonable,  and  devoid  of  ad  caftajiduni  masonry,  as 
that  of  any  other  politician.  I  have  since  seen  the  color 
of  an  oil-cloth  caj^e,  the  brass  buckle  on  a  cap,  or  the 
star  on  a  coal  oil  campaign  torch  lamp,  shape  for  life, 
the  politics  of  many  freeborn  American  citizens. 
Therefore,  I  have  no  apology  to  make  for  taking  a 
bold  and  unflinching  stand  against  Henry  Clay  in  1S44. 
I  was  thoroughly  convinced  that  he  was  totally  unfit- 
ted to  be  the  champion  of  a  great  political  party,  and 
much  less  to  be  jjresident  of  the  United  States;  not 
only  on  account  of  his  shabby  personal  appearance  and 
doubtful  moral  integrity,  but  also,  because  of  the  ca- 
—4 


36  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

lamity  that  was  to  befall  him — death  by  drowning. 
The  democratic  campaign  song  contained  a  verse  ab- 
solutely ruinous,  in  my  estimation,  to  Clay's  prospects. 
Heine's  the  verse  that  I  thought  then,  was  the  cause  of 
his  defeat: 

'Henry  Clay  is  a  man  of  doubt, 

He  wears  the  clothes  that  Polk  wore  out, 

Hurrah!  Hurrah!  the  river's  risin' 

To  drown  old  Clay  and  Frelinghuysen." 

Now  I'll  ask,  what  intelligent  boy  at  fourteen  could 
resist  such  arguments?  I've  since  seen  grey  haired 
sires  succumb  to  appeals  no  stronger.  It  might  be 
urged  that  I  was  carried  awa}'  by  the  noise  and  confu- 
sion of  the  canvass,  and  was  too  hasty  in  concluding, 
that  Clay  was  dependent  on  Polk  for  old  clothing,  or 
that  he  was  such  a  doubtful  man,  that  he  could  not  be 
trusted;  still,  I  was  determined,  from  motives  of  pure 
patriotism,  and  national  pride,  not  to  supj^ort  for  the 
highest  office  in  the  gift  of  the  people,  a  man  who 
wore  second-hand  clothing.  Besides,  suppose  he 
should  be  elected,  he  could  not  live  to  discharge  the 
duties  of  the  office.  Wasn't  he  to  be  drowned,  soon, 
with  that  'risin'  river?  For  a  long  time  after  the 
election,  I  waited  to  heartliat  the  river  had  reached  its 
highest  flood  mark,  and  swept  away  these  presump- 
tuous whig  candidates.  However,  after  growing  weary 
waiting  for  the  sad  news,  and  learning  that  Clay  still  • 
lived,  1  was  disposed  t')  regard  that  destructive  Hood 
as  rather  apochryplial,  instead  of  an  actual  angry  tor- 
rent, that  was  surely  going  to  engulf  the  Sage  of  Ash- 
land. Thus  time  confutes  some  of  our  strongest  polit- 
ical arguments.     1   have  no  apology  to  ofTer   for  con- 


JOHN    SMI'lll,    niCMOCRAT.  27 

victions  thus  arrived  nt,  even  now.  Full  j^^rown  poli- 
ticians of  to-day,  often  adduce  arjfunients  as  puerile, 
reasons  as  absurd,  in  supjjort  of  prejudices  as  silly,  and 
opinions  as  unfounded.  The  diHerence  is  in  favor  of 
llielH)y:   he's  honest. 

One  occurrence  of  that  camjiai^n  will  serve  to  show 
how  ntlerly  unlltted  I  was  then,  and  always  nuist  he, 
for  a  thrit'ty,  successful  politician.  From  a  jiecnniaiy 
point  of  view — and  that  seems  the  main  jjoint  now,  it 
will  be  seen  that  I  was  a  signal  failure.  It  was  thus: 
We  lived  in  an  extreme  Sonthern  .State,  iio  miles 
south  of  Polk's  home  in  Nashville,  Tenn.  M3'  old 
democratic  uncle,  who  was  very  enthusiastic  in  the 
campaign  of  '44,  on  a  certain  day  after  the  election, 
when  we  were  to  get  conclusive  news  of  the  result, 
called  me  up,  and  gave  me  five  dollars  in  silver;  all  in 
halves  and  quarters.  Just  think  of  it!  In  my  wealthy 
estimation  Rothschild  was  a  Job's  turkey.  My  uncle 
then  told  me  to  go  and  hire  all  the  boys  of  my  size, 
the  money  would  get  at  a  cpiarter  each,  counting  my- 
self one;  take  them  out  on  the  road,  await  the  coming 
of  the  coach,  ask  the  driver  the  result,  and  if  Polk  was 
elected,  to  cut  from  the  fence  corners  a  large  polk- 
stalk  for  each  boy,  and  thus  armed,  march  them  back, 
Indian  file,  into  town,  hurrahing  for  Polk,  Dallas  and 
Texas.  I  went  forth  to  execute  the  contract.  Volun- 
teers wei'e  numerous.  I  got  several  whig  bovs  at  a 
quarter,  and  a  few  democrats.  I  soon  learned  that  I 
could  have  got  them  at  half  the  money,  but  you  see,  it 
was  the  first,  and  only  political  contract  I  ever  under- 
took, and  I  didn't  know  any  thing  about  the  numage- 
ment  of  them.  After  I  had  filled  this  contract,  I  saw 
how  I  could  have  turned   out  the   same    force,  for  half 


28  JOHN    SMITir,  DEMOCRAT. 

the  money,  and  if  I  had  known  and  practiced  the 
methods  in  vogue  at  present,  I  could  have  kept  every 
dollar  of  the  money,  and  moved  the  hoys  as  well,  by 
making  a  stirring  appeal  to  their  self-sacrificing  devo- 
tion to  a  glorious  cause.  During  all  my  political  life 
since,  this  wasted  and  only — I  was  going  to  say  golden, 
but  I'll  compromise  and  say  silver,  opportunity,  was  all 
I  ever  had  for  a  speculation.  I  modify  the  golden — 
with  the  silver — to  lessen  the  poignancy  of  my  regret 
over  the  loss;  for  you  know,  politically  speaking,  sil- 
ver dollars  are  not  money  now,  and  this  reflection  is  a 
great  relief. 

In  ending  this  first  night's  talk  with  you  my  reader, 
I  know  you  must  see  there  is  some  diff'erence  between 
the  John  Smith  of  the  canvass  and  the  present  speaker. 
You  must  look  on  me,  then^  as  a  great,  green,  gushing 
exuberance  of  native  integrity;  noiv^  as  a  somewhat 
toughened  trunk,  with  its  few  tendrils  of  delicate  sen- 
timent seared  by  frosty  nippings,  and  all  its  candid 
shoots  of  a  sturdier  growth,  that  forced  themselves 
beyond  the  symmetrical  line  of  policy,  rudely  cut  back 
by  contact  with  outside  keenness.  So,  if  there  should 
be  any  maturity  of  expression  or  comment,  incompati- 
ble with  the  verdanc}'  of  the  whilom  victim,  you  can 
reconcile  it  with  the  thought  that  the  John  Smith  of 
then  is  not  exactly  the  John  Smith  of"  now.  \'ou  have 
learned  enough  to  know  that  he  would  make  an  honest, 
though  not  available  candidate;  as  he  was  efTectually 
cured  of  lying  at  an  eaii}'  age;  and  his  only  jiolitcal 
contract,  that  involved  money,  was,  if  anything,  too 
honestly  perfornuil,  for  he  spent  his  (juartei"  for  fire- 
crackers on  that  occasion.  It  is  plain  enough  he  would 
not  undertake  a  government  contract    to  do  a  piece  of 


JOHN  SMITH,  DEMOCRAT.  29 

work  ivorth  $5,000,000  and  clear  on  the  job  $4,750,000, 
or,  in  the  refined  lani^iiage  of  the  honorable  Simon 
Sng^fs,  "to  milk  the  cow  dry" — pocket  the  whole 
amount;  bolt  the  contract,  and  country,  or,  what  is 
safer,  flee^to  the  ''city  of  refuge,"  and  never  look  back 
till  tlie  horns  of  the  altar  of  the  riuL^s  of  safety  are  firmly 
grasped.  I  wish  you  to  bear  in  mind,  my  reader,  that 
I  am  not  that  kind  of  a  round-about  public  jobber,  that 
seeks  a  public  job  through  a  put  up  job,  by  the  pub- 
lic's servants,  in  order  to  put  up  a  job  on  the  public.  I 
never  thought  of  attempting  to  rear,  figuratively  nor 
really,  a  structure  xvorth  $3,000,000  for  $250,000,  to 
serve  as  a  dead  fall  to  innocent  victims  in  fhe  one  case, 
t)r  a  snare  and  a  delusion  to  m\'  political  friends  in  the 
other. 

A.— "Do  lay  aside  your  moral  auger." 

"No!  Just  here,  I  close  the  first  night's  talk,  with  a 
special  contract  with  the  reader.  He  must  be  aware, 
that  American  taste  is  extreme  in  everything,  just  now. 
There  is  no  popular  half-way  ground  in  literature;  we 
must  laugh  or  cry;  worship  Monuis,  or  ])ow  to  Mel- 
pomene; and  ill  the  mental  balance,  be  shot  high  up 
on  the  extreme  of  broad  humor,  or  low  down  on  the 
opposite  of  deep  tragedy;  never  balancing  at  the  equi- 
poise of  plain,  tiresome  facts.  Now,  I  propose,  with 
my  moral  auger,  to  bore  anywhere  in  this  mental  beam, 
between  the  extremes;  not  to  show  the  thinness  of  the 
outside  crust,  nor  demonstrate  the  extent  of  inward  de- 
cay; but  simply,  and  I  hojje  sensibly,  like  the  provi- 
dent woodpecker,  to  insert  here  and  there,  something 
for  future  use. 

Finally,  Mr.  Reader,  if  you  don't  wish  to  take  the 
heavy  contract  of  wading  through  thirteen  more  nights 


30  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

of  tiresome  narrative,  with  the  certainty  of  encounter- 
ing, a  few  times,  the  rusty  point  of  this  mammoth  moral 
auger;  while  your  only  c<jmpensation  may  he  an  occa- 
sional forced  smile,  if  not  at  John's  wit,  mayhe  at  his 
ludicrous  efforts  to  he  witty;  then  close  dowii^  by  clos- 
ing the  book,  on  the  remaining  thirteen  nights,  and 
vow^  you  never  knew  such  a  man  as  John  wSmith." 
A. — "Time's  up,  till  to-morrow  night." 


THAT    "everlasting"    NOMINATION. 


NIGHT  II. 

THAT    "everlasting"    NOMINATION. 

A. — "Why  do  you  call  it  everlasting?  You  say  the 
canvass  was  short." 

"I'll  explain  as  I  go  along." 

"The  nomination  occurred  as  usual,  at  what  the  "un- 
terrified"  called  the  "a-nominatin'  convention."  The 
election  was  to  occur  Tuesday,  7th  April;  the  conven- 
tions of  both  parties  were  held  the  Saturday  night  be- 
fore; thus,  you  see,  making  it  a  very  short  canvass,  as 
was  said,  to  avoid  undue  excitement." 

A. — "You  dodged  the  usual  hurrah?" 

"Not  to  any  alarming  extent.  This  very  brevity 
argument  was  used  to  get  my  assent  to  run;  it  was  the 
strongest,  and  "fetched  me,"  the  boys  said.  You  know 
I  always  have  disliked  noise  and  display,  no  matter  for 
what  purpose,  or  under  what  circumstances.  So  I  was 
glad  of  the  short  canvass,  thinking  there  was  not 
enough  time  to  get  up  much  excitement.  It  is  simply 
awful,  incredible,  if  we  didn't  see  it  in  every  campaign, 
to  contemplate  how  much  noise  and  confusion  the  free 
men  of  America  can  get  up  on  the  shortest  possible 
notice.  What  helped  to  increase  my  confidence  in  this 
quick,  quiet  canvass  argument,  was  that  often  repeated 
declaration,  "the  democratic  party  is  dead."  Before 
that  "a-nominatin'  convention"  adjourned,  sine  ftoctc^ 


32  JOHN  SMITH,   DEMOCRAT, 

my  confidence  in  this  obituary  notice  was  seriously 
shaken  by  unmistakable  signs  of  life,  vigorously  shown 
by  the  various  members  of  the  corpse;  especially  when 
the  voting  occurred.  It  was  thoroughly  astounding, 
the  voting,  I  mean.  Did  you  ever  calculate  the  voting 
capacity  of  a  ward  caucus,  or  an  informal  precinct,  or 
town  meeting?" 

A. — "Not  to  any  great  extent." 

"Then  you  never  got  half  through  the  estimate, 
because  it  takes  a  very  extensive  and  injurious  calcu- 
lation to  meet  the  requirements  of  this  subtle  prob- 
lem." 

A. — "Injurious?     How?" 

"Because  it  is  absolutely  necessary,  sometimes,  for  a 
man  to  be  a  vigorous  doubter,  and  this  sort  of  calcula- 
tion puts  too  great  a  strain  on  his  incredulty,  weaken- 
ing its  backbone  so  much,  as  to  render  the  man  utterly 
incapable,  ever  after,  of  strongly  doubting  any  thing 
except  the  truth  on  the  opposite  side,  and  the  old  ax- 
iomatic adage,  'figures  won't  lie'  when  applied  to 
counting  votes." 

A. — "Perhaps,  John,  it  is  not  fair  to  charge  the  fig- 
ures with  lying," 

"May  be  not.     It  may  be  the  votes?" 

A. — "How  about  the  politicians?" 

"Oh!  It  wont  do  to  doubt  the  veracity  of  ollice 
seekers,  nor  question  that  of  their  'honesl-hard-fistcd- 
bone-and-sinew-long-suire  ring-patient-oppressed-tax- 
ridden-do  wn-trodden-serf-Iike-yeoman-arise-in-t  heir- 
stalwart-sove  reign-la  vv-making-maste  r-of-t  he- people- 
rig  hls-freemen-of-a-free-coiin  try-fellow -citizen-con- 
stituents.'  " 

A, — "Dill  you  say  vc-iAc'iiy,  oi'  ry-racity?" 


THAI     "  EVKIU.ASTIN(;  "    NOMINATION.  33 

"It  makes  no  difference,  now,  so  far  as  the  office 
seekers  are  concerned,  and  as  there  is  only  the  differ- 
ance  of  one  letter,  the  long-suffering  tax-ridden  con- 
stituency may  have  the  O  as  an  exclamation  of  anguish 
to  plead  in  justification." 

A. — "You  are  digressing,  bolting  the  convention." 

"Wish  I  had  done  so.  I  didn't,  so  I  must  gto 
through  with  telling  how,  (to  use  a  slang  phrase),  it 
'went  through  me.' 

There  were  three  candidates  for  the  office  of  may- 
or: Jacob  Peters,  Nicholas  Brown  and  myself;  all 
pledging  ourselves  in  the  usual  confiding  and  self-sac- 
rificing manner,  made  and  provided,  for  such  emer- 
gencies." 

A.— "What's  this?" 

"They  are  the  speeches  made  on  that  occasion  bv 
the  several  candidates  for  mayor.  1  cut  them  out  of 
the  Bunkumville  Spectator." 

A. — "Do  you  wish  them  inserted.^" 

"Yes.  I  want  the  reader,  if  I  ever  have  one,  to 
know  what  kind  of  sterling  stuff  politicians  were  made 
of  in  those  good  old  days,  when  'hon<esty'  was  said  to 
be  the  'best  policy.'  Besides,  they  may  serve  as  a 
guide  to  the  earnest  student  of  oratory,  eloquence  and 
public  speaking. 

It  will  be  seen  by  a  careful  pcrsual,  and  consitlera- 
tion  of  the  circumstances,  that  these  three  specimens 
of  oratory  are — and  must  necessarily  be  the  same  in 
tenor  and  substance.  There  is  also  a  similarity  in 
phraseology  and  diction,  but  this  sameness  was  relieved 
by  a  pleasing  variety  in  the  modulation  of  enunciation, 
and  grace  of  gesticulation.  The  crowning  merit  of 
these  bursts  of  eloquence,  was  in   their  nervous  fresh- 

—5 


34  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

ness;  their  vigorous  originality.  As  few, perhaps,  ves, 
perchance,  a  considerahle  (?)  few,  mayhap,  in  these 
degenerate  days,  hear  lame  imitations  onl}',  at  the 
few  political  conventions,  so  few  and  far  between,  in 
this  couutr}-,  I  think  it  advisable  to  insert  them  in 
full." 

A. — "How  long  are  they?  It  wont  do  to  bore  that 
hypothetical  reader  too  much." 

"He'll  excuse  me  on  tlie  ground  of  relevancy.  Copy 
them  verb.  ct.  litP 

[From  the  Bunkumville   Spectatoj.] 

GREAT  SPEECH  OF  THE  HON.  NICHOLAS  BROWN 

ESQ.,  BEFORE  THE    CITY    DEMOCRATIC 

CONVENTION,   APRIL  4TH, 

A.  D.  186S. 

]\Ir.  C/iair/Jian  and  fcllozu-citizens  of  this  glorious 
old  democratic  convention  :  (cheers.)  I'm  a  democrat, 
(cheers.)  1  was  liorn  a  democrat  (increased  cheering), 
and  hope  to  die — (tremendous  cheering) — to  die  one, 
I've  always  voted  the  clean  simon — (cries  of  that's  so) 
— simon  "pvvoar"  ticket — (cries,  bully!  bully!)  an'  I  al- 
ways intends — (a  voice,  "Go  for  'um  Nich!") — always 
intends  to.  (deafening  cheers.)  1  pledge  myself  to 
dischavvg  tlie  juties  of  the  olHs — (a  voice,  from  the  (ip- 
jiosition,  "^'ez  bitter  hev  yez  callin'  an'  illikshun  shure, 
be  dad!") — juties  of  tlu'  <>llis  if  elected — (a  voice,  "You 
petter  vas  nominaUd  a  lietle,  sometimes") — faitlifuUy 
and  honestly — ("th.it\  it  Nick!") — honestly — (a  voice, 
"How's  Ihat  furbi-lir")  I  will  abide-(a  voice, "at  home") 
(chairman  ciiiii  "■(  )r(lir")  abide  the  decision — (a  voice, 
"t<j  lun  liun)"j    oi"  this  convention,  (cheers)  and  roll  up 


THAI-    "  i;\  ICKI.AS  riNG  "    NOMINATION.  35 

my  slL'c\cs-(a  voice  "'Atlii't  vouns  hcltcr  t;ikc  oufyuiiiis 
coot  fust?") — and  roll  up  niv  sleeves — (a  voice  in  soii^-, 
"For  [didan  am  a  hard  road  totrablile  1  heliexe'") — my 
sleeves  and  work  likt-  a  \\lieel-("o'lortin'' ")- -a  wheel- 
horse — (\i)ice  in  song,  "Ole  grev  horse  cum  out  de  wil- 
dei^ness,  out  de  wild — ")  (chair,  "-Order  !"J — grey  wheel 
— (  laughter  )—iv/iec/  grey — -(uproarious  laughter) — 
WHEEL  iioitsr';  GKEV — (deafening  peals  of  laughter) 
—  IK^RSE  GREY  WHEEL!!  (Here  the  chairman 
arose,  and  after  some  five  miiuites,  secured  the  atten- 
tion ol"  the  laughter-convulsetl  audience  and  earnestly 
requested  them  to  maintain  the  wonted  decorum  that 
should  characterize  such  deliherati\e  assend)lages.  Mr. 
iirowii  taking  advantage  of  this  lull,  concluded :)  I 
thank  you,  gentlemen  of  the  convention,  for  your  pa- 
tient listening  to  my  'disulterry'  remarks.  I  have 
done. 

He  ilescended  the  platform  amitl  tremendous  cheer- 
ing of  his  hosts  of  friends.  Mr.  Brown  is  an  excellent 
speaker.  His  wit  is  unsurpassed  hy  any.  Some  fool- 
ish people  think  he  vs^as  disconcerted,  when  he  admitted 
to  the  etlitor,  that  this  was  a  sly  way  he  had  of  "put- 
ting the  boys  in  a  good  humor,"  and  he  further  stated, 
very  truthfully,  that  it  was  "the  best  way  to  harmonize 
a  convention." — Ed. 


THRILLING    SPEECH    OF    THE    HON.    JACOB    PE- 
TERS, ESQ.,  DELIVERED— 

A. — "John!  let's  omit  these  flaming  head  lines — they 
are  just  alike,  save  the  names." 

"Just  as  you  please." 


o 


6  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 


Mr.  Chairt/ta/i  ati'  fcncr-citizois  of  t/iis  glorious 
ale  diminycratic  party :  (cheers.)  I'm  a  dimmycrat; 
(loud  cheering)  myoledad — (deafening  cheers) — daddy 
was  a  dimmycrat  (protracted,  uproarious  cheering)  be- 
fore me — (voice,  Hibernian,  "Faith,  an'  he  couldn't  well 
bay  afther  ye,  az  praps  hay  was  barren  foorst.")  (Chair, 
"oi'der!")  I  was  born  a  dymmy — (loud  cheering) 
mycrat,  an'  hope  to  die — (voice,  "Make  it  soon,")^ — -to  die 
a — (voice,"Knock  'um,  Jake!") — to  die  adem — (voice,  "a 
dem  hard  death,") — -die  adem — (voice,  Teutonic;  "He 
vants  von  tiatem,  oder  grown")  die — (voice,  Britannic; 
"  'E's  o'er  long  deein'.")— (Chair,  "Order!  order!!")— a 
dimmycrat.  (cheers.)  I've  always  went  the  straight 
— (voice,  "whisky") — straight,  unadulterated — (voice, 
"whosky,  sure,") — ticket." 

A. — "Oh,  thunder!  It's  the  same  speech,  almost 
verbatim,  save  the  interruptions,  and  one  saving  clause. 
Peters  got  Brown  on  the  score  of  hereditary  democracy. 
Brown,  unfortunately  or  wisely,  omitted  to  state  the 
politics  of  his  paternal  ancestor.  Is  your  speech,  John, 
very  long?  Of  course  its  something  better  than  these 
stereotyped  failures." 

"Oh,  it  diflfers,  in  some  points  of  difference." 
A. — "Does  it?     That's  strange.     Here  it  is,  its  some 
longer,  and  not  as  much  interrupted. " 

Mr.  Chairmafi  and  fe/lozv-r/fizcns  of  t lie  o'lorioiis 
old  donocratic  party  of  this  roi/rcntion :  (cheers.)  I 
am  a  democrat,  (loud  cheering)  my  lather  was  a  demo- 
crat (deafening  cheers)  of  the  straiglit — (a  \  oice,  "whis- 
ky kind") — the  straitest  sect,  (cheers.)  My  grandfa- 
ther (cheers  loud   ;md    long,)  was   a  democrat   (lerrillc 


TIfAT    "  EVKKI.AS  ri\(;"    NOMINATION.  37 

applause,  with  wa\  inj^- ol"  hats)  of  a  strai<:jliter  sect  than 
he.  (A  voice,  "Ilould  an,  Januy,  yez  iz  ai'ther  whittlin 
yez  politics  afl^'n  the  wrang  iiul.")  1  was  born  a 
dem — " 

A. — "That^  eu(>u;^ii,  1  see  the  \ast  difference  in 
these  speeches."" 

"Point  it  out." 

A. — "Brown  was  an  orphan,  no  lather;  Peters  took 
advantage  of  this,  with  a  father.  Smith  saw  this  and 
went  one  ancester  better,  and  thus  carried  off  the  stakes 
with  a  bluff.  It  was  lucky  for  you,  John,  there  wasn't 
some  fourth  candidate  there  to  come  in  with  the  poli- 
tics of  his  g-reat-<i;-rand  daddv." 

"If  you  had  liecn  there,  and  liad  seen  that  ballotin<4", 
you'd  ha\'e  thoug-ht  ten  i>-enerations  of  unadulteratetl 
democracy  couldn't  have  beaten  it.  As  I  said  before, 
it  was  absolutelv  astoundiii'jf.  J^rown  was  the  aristo- 
cratic candidate.  Peters  was  popular  with  the  riff-raff. 
I  was  said  to  be  the  golden  medium.  First  ballot: 
Brown,  98;  Peters,  120;  .Smith,  125;  total,  343;  neces- 
sary to  a  choice,  172.  This  total  number  of  votes  as- 
tonished everybody,  as  the  house  held  only  250  people. 
Nothing-  was  said  of  it,  and  the  convention  proceeded 
to  ballot  the  second  time.  Result:  Prown,96;  Peters, 
169;  Smith,  127;  total,  392;  necessary  to  a  choice,  197. 
When  this  was  announced  the  IJrown  men  made  some 
uneasy  demonstrations.  One  John  Hampden  arose 
and  declared  that  he  believed  there  was  foul  play. 
(Cries  of"No!  never!"  "It's  a  lie.")  He  asserted  that  13 
of  the  Peters  men  had  gom-  out,  as  he  believed,  to  get 
a  drink,  and  he  couldn't  see  how  the  Peters  vote  could 
fhus  be  increased  from    120   on   the  Inst,  to    169  on  the 


38  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT, 

second  ballot.  Here  arose  a  <4-reat  din  from  the  Peters 
men.  The  chairman  quieted  them.  The  third  liallot 
stood,  Brown,  SS;  Peters,  220;  Smith,  135;  ttjtal,  443! 
necessary  to  a  cIkmcc,  223.  Peters  lacking'  two  votes. 
Now  the  Brown  men  saw  if  this  sort  of  hallotiny  went 
on  Peters  wouUl  get  2000  or  3000  if  necessary  to  a 
choice,  and  as  I  was  their  next  choice  they  all  united 
on  me.  The  fourth  ballot  was  announced.  Brown,  o; 
Peters,  240;  Smith,  22y,  total,  463!!  The  ciiairman, 
who  kept  a  saloon  and  lioarding- house,  promptly  an- 
nounced, "Mr.  Peters  having  received  a  majority  of  all 
the  ballots  cast,  is  declared  the  nominee  of  the  con- 
vention, for  the  ottice  of  mayor  of  the  city  of  Bunkum- 
ville." 

One  of  the  Browns  objected,  on  the  olivious  ground 
of  imfair  votin"'.  He  wished  to  take  one  vote  I'/i'a 
voct\  in  order  to  satisfy  the  members  of  the  convention. 
Another  great  rumpus  from  Peters'  friends.  The 
chair  made  a  feeble  ellort  to  quiet  the  tlislurbance.  1 
thought  I  was  beaten;  was  accordingly  taking  my 
leave,  when  one  oi'the  tellers  arose  and  said,  there  was 
"a  batch  of  tickets  in  the  hat,  lor  Petei's,  that  contained 
25  ballots  that  were  slicking  close  together  and  had 
never  been  separated  except  in  tlie  count."  This  led 
to  a  successful  motion,  that  in  the  next  ballot  each  vo- 
ter sJKnild  hand  his  ballot  to  the  teller,  and  let  him  cast 
it  in  the  hat.  The  result  was,  Peters,  85;  Smith,  130; 
total,  23^.      How  is  that  Ibr  balloting  capacity?" 

A. — "There  must  have  beeu  stulliiig  done  all 
aroiiml. 

"Il  ap|n'ars  so.  IlV  astonishing  hi>w  suddriiU  p"p- 
iilai     Mux'css    makes    a    man.      I    was    more  than  aston- 


THAT    "everlasting         NOMINATION.  39 

ished  at  the  iiisliini;,  giishii)!^  friendship  of  the  Peters 
men.  1  felt  grateful  then;  1  don't  feel  as  much  grati- 
tude now.  They  took  violent  [possession  of  me,  and 
rushed  me  ofT  to  a  Mr.  Mallory's  saloon,  where,  in  a 
very  short  time,  they  had  ten  or  fifteen  dollars  of  my 
money  expended  for  that  villainous  (I  tho't  so  then) 
lager  beer.  /  did  not  want  any  beer;  it  was  bitter, 
nauseous  to  my  taste,  but  it  seemed  as  if  that  crowd  of 
Peters  men  never  would  get  enough.  They  really 
appeared  in  good  earnest  for  me,  for  they  hurrahed 
lustily  for  Smith.  Several  told  me  confidentially,  and 
talked  so  [plausibly,  that  I  believed  firmly  then,  and 
scarcely  disbelieve  now,  in  their  professsions  of  fealty." 

A. — "Oh,  thunder,  John  !  are  you  a  political  green- 
horn yet?" 

"No,  no!  Pve  learned  not  to  place  any  large  amount 
of  confidence  to  the  credit  of  such  customers. 

Those  Peters'  men  carried  on  in  that  beer  saloon  at 
an  intensely  disgusting  rate.  They  insisted  on  my 
drinking  a  glass  of  the  miserable  stuff;  1  took  a  part 
of  it  with  great  effort.  Their  repulsive  conduct  an- 
noyed me  very  much,  for  they  urged  me  to  drink  an- 
other glass  of  the  bitter  beverage;  I  did  it  through 
friendship.  .Still,  their  irregular  behavior  displeased 
me,  as  1  was  solicited  to  take  another  glass  of  their 
tonic  lager.  This  tasted  some  better,  and  I  swallowed 
it  with  more  ease.  Yet  1  didn't  approve  their  jolly 
festivities,  for  I  was  asked  to  "set  'em  up,"  which 
meant  to  treat.  I  called  out  the  agreeable  drink, 
and  — " 

A. — "Hold  a  moment,  John.  You  were  drunk! 
Evidence — ist.  Conduct  of  Peters'  men  went  through 


40  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

the  grades  of  disgusting,  repulsixc,  irregular,  festive. 
2d.  The  beer  was  miserable  stufl",  l)itter  beverage, 
tonic  lager,  agreeable  drink.  Verdict — Guilty.  Go 
on  from  a  sober  standpoint  and  tell  what  else  occur- 
red." 

"Well,  I  guess  I  was  somewhat  fuddled.  I  wanted 
to  go  home  though,  and  tell  my  wife,  not  of  the  drunk, 
but  the  nomination.  She  is  a  proud,  good  woman, 
and  I  knew  she  would  be  delighted  to  learn  of  my 
success.  You  know  how  women  are.  Do  you  think 
I  could  get  away  from  that  rabble  till  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  They  acted  like  Comanche  Indians  full 
of  lightning  whisky.  Danced  the  war  dance;  whoop- 
ed the  war  whoop;  scalped  the  bar-keeper;  scalped 
each  other,  and  scalped  me  worse  than  any  other  vic- 
tim. They  shouldered  me  in  a  lively,  and  I  thought 
rather  careless  way,  yelling  for  a  speech.  "Speech — 
speech  from  Hon'bul-ic-Jo'ss  'mith,  squire.  Rah  for 
Yons  'mith!  Bully  fur  me  laddie-book,  Jonny  .Smeeth! 
Spruchc  \(in  Johannes  Schmidt,  j)v  tarn  I  all  der 
time!" — and  before  1  had  time  to  remonstrate,  I  was 
perched  on  the  saloon  counter,  peering  througb  a  dense 
fog  of  tobacco  smoke,  at  a  confused  jumble  of  towzled 
heads,  battered  hats,  wildly  gesticulating  arms.  Jingling 
beer  glasses,  babbling  tongues  and  jolly  faces — the  dis- 
cordant, sloshing,  seething  mass,  graduall}'  silting 
down  to  a  listening  quietude.  1  loiildn"!  speak,  but 
attempted  to  say  something.  Every  otluM  word  I  was 
cheered  vociferously — (tiiat's  too  weak,  can't  I  say  can- 
nonadingly .''  No.^) — and  asked  tc.  take  something. 
This  carousal  went  on  till  tbe  bar-keeper  saw  his 
crowd  was  too  full  to  swallow  any  more,  so  he  gently 
reminded  me  tliat    liie    law  eoinpeiled  {':)  bim    t(j  close 


iiiA'r  "  j:\i:Ki.As'iiN(i  "   xomi  nation. 


4' 


at  ten  o'clock — it  was  just  two  then.  I  started  home, 
when,  to  my  dismay,  at  least  a  score  of  these  friends 
insisted  on  seeing  "Hon-bul-ic-John-his-miff-ome." 

A. — "How  did  vour  wife  receive  the  deleiration?" 

"Don't  mention  it.  It  makes  me  feel  bad  yet,  tho' 
several  years  have  intervened.  The  reception  of  the 
delegation  of  escorts  was  not  the  main  question.  The 
previous  (juestion,  and  the  most  dilhcult  to  settle,  was 
my  personal  identity,  ^'ou  see  I  had,  for  the  first 
time,  used  the  beer  too  freely  internally,  whilst  my 
unsteady  friends  had  made  a  very  liberal  external  ap- 
plication, as  1  must  have  had  at  least  a  dozen  glasses 
spilt  over  my  clothing  and  into  my  hair  and  hat. 
Holmes  sang — 

"Virtue  may  tlourish  in  an  old  craxat; 

But  man  and  nature  scorn  the  shcicking  hat." 

M}'  hat  at  that  time,  on  entering  that  saloon  was  a 
stylish,  glossy  silk ;  new.  When  1  came  out  from  that 
pandemonium,  it  was  more  than  the  poet  ever  dreamed 
of,  in  the  wav  of  "shocking."  You've  noticed  ex- 
cited ministers  clinch  an  argument  with  a  vigorous 
thinnp  on  the  ])ulpit  Bible;  so  my  friends,  on  this  oc- 
casion, '•'•highly  excited,  and  recklessly  vigorous,  hav- 
ing no  arguments  to  rivet,  emphasized  each  "'rah  for 
Smith,"  with  a  ponderous  rap  on  my  plug  hat,  till 
it  resembled  any  thing,  except  a  hat.  I've  tried  to 
thitdc  what  it  did  look  like,  and  wished  I  had  a  photo- 
graph of  it.  I  can  think  of  only  one  comparative 
description;  that,  far-fetched,  but  it  will  convey  an  itlea 
of  the  shape.  It  resembled  a  highl\-  magnified  fac- 
simile, in  anthracite  coal,  of  the  Kohinoor  diamond, 
—6 


^2  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

hut  unlike  that  gem,  it  lost   in    hrilliancy   as   it    gained 
in  facets  and  angles. 

On  the  wa}'  home  two  of  my  friends,  whom  1  was 
supporting  as  well  as  I  could,  tailing,  jerked  me  down 
on  mv  face,  while  the  half  score  in  the  rear  fell  on  top 
of  us;  crushing  my  nose  and  face  ft-dt  to  the  sidewalk. 
Then  followed  a  confused  babel  of  maudlin  impreca- 
tions; each  charging  his  next  neighbor  with  knocking 
"dowz,'--  or  letting  '■'faw  zon-bul  Joss  Mith."  At  this 
juncture,  the  night  watchman  came,  just  in  time  to 
prevent  a  row.  When  I  gained  my  feet,  I  discovered 
my  nose  was  bleeding  freely.  An  officious  friend, 
took  my  white  linen  handkerchief,  and  wiping  the 
blood  with  a  comprehensive  smear,  that  included  my 
whole  face,  from  ear  to  ear;  then  with  a  bungling 
hand,  tried  to  tic  the  blood-stained  rag  over  one  eye, 
but  got  it  around  my  neck ;  a  virtuous  cravat — to  off- 
set the  blame  of  the  "shocking  hat."  In  this  plight, 
with  the  aid  of  the  night-watch — followed  b)-  all  of 
this  drunken  batch;  I  was  ushered  into  my  quiet  home; 
not  quiet  long,  after  the  escorts  come  into  the  hall. 

A. — "Why  didn't  you  get  the  watch  to  send  the  of- 
ficious wretches  away,  before  you  entered.'"' 

"No  use;  he  tried,  but  tiic}-  were  fast  friends  in  every 
sense.  They  jointly  and  severally  swore  tlievM 
"shee-ole-fezzer-ome-ic,"  and  they  did,  if  tliey  were 
not  too  blind  drunk.  And  now  do  von  wonder,  that 
mv  identity  was  a  serious  (|ueslion. 

The  watchman  iiad  hard  work  to  induce  mv  wife 
to  come  into  the  ball,  after  she  was  spoken  to  several 
times  by  me.  I  at  lirst  tiumglit  she  was  dressing;  but 
s]ie  had  not  ^one  to  bed — waiting  lor  me.     She  linally 


THAT    "  i:\i;i{I.ASTING        NOiM  I  \  ATION.  43 

placed  herself  under  the  protection  of  the  oflicer,  :uui 
came  oiil.  I  ap))roached  her,  speaking" :  "•It's  I,  my 
dear;  it's  I."  She  shrank  hack,  exclaiminj^:  "Go 
away,  von  hloody  hrute.  Vou  are  drunk — you  are 
not  m\'  luisband," 

I  could  not  blame  her,  1  shouldn't  ha\e  known  my- 
self from  external  indications.  All  the  evidence,  I 
myself  had,  of'  my  identity,  was  internal,  and  that  was 
strouirer  of  lauer  beer  than  mental  comiction. 

,  The  watchman  made  another  ellbrt  to  convince  my 
wife  that  I  U'a-s- John  Smith,  her  lawl'ul  husband,  but 
my  fast  friends  were  all  engaged  at  the  same  difiicult 
task;  to  the  manifest  aggravation  of  the  case.  This 
serious  predicament  soon  had  a  sobering  effect  on  me. 
I  was  terribly  indignant,  I  think  my  voice  was  under- 
going a  change,  I  told  my  wife,  I  was  John  Smith, 
her  lawful  husband,  and  not  to  act  foolish  au}'   longer. 

"Vesh,  awfer  husber,"  shrieked  a  friend. 

"Mein  Gott,  vot  a  vomans!  I  shust  pets  mein  dot- 
tem  poller  das  vas  kein  ander  man  als  Johannes 
.Schmidt — py  tam — all  der  time — you  shee  er  shust 
falls  mit  der  cidevalk  down,  und — " 

"Arrah — yer  blatherin  spalpeen — -yez  niver  wad 
igsplane,  wid  yez  krout-atin  tongue,  at  all,  at  all,  it's 
meself^"  Here  our  Hibernian  friend  got  his  legs  en- 
tangled in  the  bell  wire,  that  had  been  jeiked  from  its 
fastenings  and  disposed  itself  in  many  coils  on  the 
Hoor,  and  falling,  knocked  down  two  or  three  others, 
as  they  were  all  "tight  as  bricks,"  and  as  inert,  when 
set  in  a  row. 

Whether  my  wife  had  recognized  my  voice  or  the 
dire  necessity  of  some  protector,  1  didn't  then   know, 


44  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

but  she  came  up  cautiously,  looked  at  a  ring  on  my 
finger,  gave  my  hand  a  jerk  toward  the  sitting  room 
door;  and  I  went  meekly  in. 

The  watchman  cleared  the  hall  and  all  was  quiet  as 
a  lamb. 

A. — "Yes,  I  guess  so — tired?" 

"Yes,  till  to-morrow  night." 


A    QUIKT    SAliliATH.  45 


NlGirr     III. 

A    QiriF/r    SAniiATII. 

"Day  of  ;ill  tlie  week  the  best."— OA/  song.      Very. 

"Next  (lay,  Siinda}',  you  may  truly  infer  that  my 
Sabbath  reflections  were  not  very  agreeable.  I  said 
my  wife  is  a  proud  and  conscientious  woman.  Why 
do  you  smile  like  a  simpleton  when  1  meiiti(Mi  my 
wife?" 

A. — "Oh,  nothing!"' 

"You  are  thinking  about,  and  dying  to  know,  what 
occurred  after  she  gently  (?)  led  me  into  the  sitting 
room.  You'll  never  know;  though  my  recollection  is 
more  vivid  on  that,  than  all  the  rest." 

A.— "I  dare  say." 

"I  said  my  wife  was  and  is  a  proud  woman;  so  you 
can  conclude  that  her  estimate  of  the  honor  appertain- 
ing to  the  nomination  for  mayor  of  Bunkumville  did 
not  reach  as  high  a  figure  as  her  indignation  at  tiie 
previous  night's  spree.  She  said  it  was  shameful, 
scandalous,  disgraceful!  All  of  which  I  very  peni- 
tently admitted.  I  was  truly  sorry;  ashamed  of  my- 
self; so  much  so,  that  I  had  determined,  taking  such  a 
night  as  a  foretaste  of  what  a  man  must  encounter  in 
running  for  ofHce,  on  declining  early  next  day.  I 
acccrdiuiilv  wrote  a  card  of  withdrawal — intending  to 


46  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

send  it  to  the  editor,  with  proper  instructions.  I  so 
told  my  wife.  Slie  told  me  she  did  not  see  any  harm 
or  disgrace  in  running  for  an  ofHce,  but  she  had 
already  seen  there  was  great  harm,  and  e\  erlasting  dis- 
grace in  running  every  saloon  in  town. 

"Run  every  saloon  in  town?  Why,  my  dear,  there 
are  twenty-seven  saloons.  Do  you  think  it  is  possible 
they  expect  a  candidate  to  patronize  all   of  them." 

She  replied,  she  didn't  know  what  the  people  ex- 
pected of  me,  but  she  could  tell  me  that  if  I  patronized 
twenty-seven  saloons  once  around,  as  I  did  that  one 
last  night,  there  would  n't  be  enough  respectability 
left  in  me  to  make  a  fourth-rate  horse-thief,  mucii  less 
a  mayor. 

I  told  her  nothing  could  induce  me  to  repeat  that 
conduct — nothing.  I  would  n't  do  it  again  for  the 
presidency. 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  she  said ;  "but,  Mr.  Smith,  you 
know  how  much  hurrahing',  drinking,  and  even  fight- 
ing there  is  at  every  city  election;  till  we  couldn't 
sleep  at  night — that,  when  you  had  nothing  to  do  with 
them — now  you  are  the  head  of  the  ticket.  The  Lord 
only  knows  what's  to  come." 

This  was  a  view  I  had  n't  taken.  The  extreme  pro- 
bability of  it  made  the  perspiration  start  on  my  fore- 
head. Dragged  ofT to  twenty-seven  diirerent  saloons, 
the  most  respectable  of  whicli  I  liad  nlread\'  patron- 
ized, to  spend  30  times  27  dollars,  $810;  to  make  27 
speeches  through  27  stifling  fogs  of  tobacco  smoke,  to 
27  crowds  of  druidvcn,  scalping  savages;  to  have  27 
dozen  glasses  of  beer  applied  jiromiscuouslv  externally, 
and  27  dozen  glasses  to  appl\-  intoxicatingly  internally, 
37  new  silk  hats  battered  into  crows-nests;  and,  oh,  27 


A    QUIKT    SA15HATII,  47 

noses — no;  one  poor  nose  smashed  3y  times.  Here  I 
inquiringly,  but  ten(lcrl\',  touched  it,  and  it  far  more 
tenderly  replied,  "can't  stand  an\'  more  of  that  sort!'' 
I  grew  faint  with  this  terrible  summing  up,  and  faintly 
answered  my  wife:  ""\'es,  but  my  dear,  there  won't 
be  time.  The  election  is  Tuesday;  to-morrow,  Mon- 
day, the  only  working  day,  and,  thank  the  good  Lord 
for  the  Christian  Sabbath. 

"  Day  of  all  the  week  the  hest." 
•  Emblem  of  eternal  re " 

"Hark!   Mrs.  Smith,"  loquitur. 

"Mr.  Smith,"  exclaimed  my  wife,  "somebody's  pull- 
ing at  that  bell-wire;  don't  you  hear  it  rattling  on  the 
hall  floor?" 

1  did  hear  distinctly ;  but  didn't  want  to  hear  such 
music.  It  was  as  sweetly  suggestive  to  my  apprehen- 
sive ear  of  what  was  to  come,  as  the  long  roll  of  the 
drum,  or  the  friendly  warning  of  the  rattlesnake;  and 
quite  as  cheering  as  the  sound  of  the  first  clods  on  a 
coffin-lid.  The  perspiration  started  again.  This  ap- 
pears, perhaps  was,  cowardly;  but  you  know,  when  a 
man  has  just  perpetrated  his  first  disreputable  affair, 
like  that  spree,  he  is  filled  with  penitence  and  self-con- 
demnation; and  with  a  reasonable  expectation  of  being 
called  on  to  repeat  it,  he  is  replete  with  loathing; 
he  feels  like  running  away  from  the  possibility  of  a 
repetition.  I  think  such  cowardice  is  near  akin  to 
bravery;  so  I  asked  my  wife  to  answer  the  call. 

"I  would  rather  3'ou'd  go,"  she  replied.  "I'm  not 
dressed  for  company." 

"Oh,  it's  nobody  but  the  boy  with  the  milk.  I'tl  go, 
but  you  see  my  nose  isn't  dressed  for  company." 


48  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"It's  dressed  in  the  standard  style,  for  color  antl 
make  up,  of  its  companions  of  last  night,"  retorted 
she. 

"That  milk  will  sour  before  you  get  there." 

"Vou  know,  Mr.  Smith,  it's  too  early  for  the  milk 
boy.  It's  7  o'clock  now,  and  he  never  comes  till  half 
after,  our  breakfast  time;  but  your  nose  may  create  a 
false  alarm  of  fire;''  and  with  this  bit  of  pleasantry,  she 
went. 

I  heard  her  conversing  with  at  least  two  persons,  but 
could  not  distinguish  a  word,  or  recognize  the  voices. 
They  were  ushered  into  the  parlor,  then  my  wife  came 
back  with  no  pleasantry  in  her  face  or  tone. 

"Smith,  you  can  go  and  see  'em.  They  wou/d  come 
in,  the  brutes,  though  I  told  'em  that  — ^" 

"Who  are  they,  my  dear?" 

"Oh!  don't  dear  me;  I  told  }()U  so;  1  just  knew 
how  this  everlasting  nomination  was  going  to  be  your 
everlasting  ruin." 

"Who  were  thcvr  Why  didn't  \<)u  tell  them  I  was 
— was  sick — or  indisposed,  or — " 

"I'm  not  going  to  start  out  to  lie  any  mortal  into  of- 
fice. It's  a  bigger  job  than  I'll  undertake;  and  you 
ought  to  know,  if  you  haven't  learned  from  experience, 
the  lying  news  papers  should  ha\  c  taught  you,  tliat  it's 
nothing  l>ut  lies  from  beginning  to  end,  and — " 

"Do  calm  yourself  and  til!  nie  \\  ho  thi'\-  are.  We 
are  keeping  them   waiting." 

"Let  'em  wait.  ^Pliere's  that  gimlet-eyed,  needle- 
nosed  lawyer  .Sleek,  and  that  despisable,  red-headed, 
freckled-faced  Hlackman,  with  a  nose  as  bright 
as  the  headlight,  and  big  as  llie  cowiateher  ol  a  loco- 
nioti\  t'  — just  forcing   themselves — tbieing? — better  say 


A    QIIET    SABBATH.  49 

burglarizing  ;i  private  dwelling — before  breakfast, 
.Sunday  morning,  insisting  that  Ihey  must  see  you 
right  away  on  very  important  business.  I  told  them 
that  you  never  transacted  any  Inisiness  on  Sunday, 
surmising  what  they  wanted,  and  that  impudent  Bhick- 
man  said  it  was  customary  in  such  crncrgencies  to 
work  on  vSunchiy ;  and  I  was  silly  enough  to  think 
there  was  something  awful,  and  asked  him  what? 
when  he  gave  me  an  assassinating  smile,  and  said, 
they  wanted  to  make  arrangements  for  the  funeral 
services  of  a  certain  Mr. Jones;  just  as  though  I  could 
n't  see  through  the  transparent  humbug,  and — " 

"My  dear! — I  never  heard  you  use  such  language 
before,  you  are  excited." 

''My  language  is  cpiite  as  choice  and  refined  as  such 
subjects  deserve.  I  onlv  hope  it's  nothing  worse,  if 
anything  can  be,  than  that  everlasting  nomination. 
So, now  you  know  who  your  honorable  guests  are,  and 
you  can  go,  before  breakfast,  and  entertain  'em." 

"Calm  yourself,  my  wife,  and  be  so  kind  as  to  hand 
me  your  lilly-white,  that  I  may  modify  the  rubicundity 
of  this  nasal  protuberance." 

"Don't  always  be  a  fool,  John  vSmith,  3'our  nose  is 
quite  respectable  enough  for  the  company  it  keeps. 

I  went  to  the  parlor  and  found  my  early  guests 
were  Messrs.  Sleek  and  Blackman;  the  former,  what 
the  legal  fraternitv  style  "shyster";  tricky  antl  unre- 
liable every  way;  the  latter,  a  thoroughly  unscruplous 
bummer.  Mind  you,  1  did  not  know  either  of  the 
men  personally,  or  otherwise  at  that  first  interview. 

"Good  morning,  gentlemen." 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Smith,"  leplied  Mr.  Sleek, 
with  a  formal  bow, 

—7 


:^0  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Hello!  Johnny,  old  fcl,"  fium  Blacknian,  with  :; 
familiar  slap  on  the  shoulder.  "How  you  makin'  it? 
Boys  says  3'ou  j^ot  up  a  re^'lar  old  forty-hoss-power 
democratic  rc\i\al  at  deacon  Mallory's  church  last 
night.  Flunxy  told  me  you  preached  a  wakin'  u)) 
sarmont,  the  old  fashion'd  orthredox  docterin';  an' 
waked  the  hlack  republican  simiers  to  see  the  errors 
ov  thar  ways  an'  repent.  How  did  you  like  deacon 
Mai's  pulpit — not  convenient  for  preachin',  hut  old 
Mai  'strihutes  the  right  kind  o'  spiritooal  comfort  to 
the  thirsty  sinner  from  it — \()U  het.  Vou  held  a  pro- 
stracted  meetin'  the  boys  says — that's  the  way  to  fetch 
'em — rassel  with  'em — rassel  ontwell  plumb  daylight, 
like  old  Gabe,  or  Jake,  or  what's-'is-name  did  with  the 
angel — rassel  'em  down,  vSome  o'  the  boys  told  me 
they'd  better  er  nom'natetl  Peters — that  you  was  one 
of  these  long-faced  pious  galoots.  You  knocked  that 
clean  out'n  'em  with  your  fust  sermon.  P'lnnxy  says 
he  never  was  so  dead  beat  in  a  man  in  his  born  tlays, 
as  he  was — when  you  waltzed  uj),  like  an  old  wdieel- 
horse  with  nary  harness  mark  on  you,  to  the  mourner's 
bench  (saloon  counter)  an'  told  old  deacon  Mai,  to 
'minister  the  sacrament  (set  out  the  drinks)  at  your  ex- 
pense.    Johnny,  vou  look  a  leetle  worse  for  wear  and 

tear.     Some  onregen'rate   cuss   hand  you  one   on  the 
smeller.'' — " 

A.— "Well?" 

"Well." 

A. — "Why  don'l  you  go  on?" 

"I  was  wondering  \\h\'  I  diihTl  kick  that  IJIackman 
oul  promptly.  With  my  additional  knowledge  of  the 
utter  indelicacy  of — I  was  going  to  say  j)oli(ical  eti- 
quette— political   associations,    1    could    hardly     refrain 


A    (il'Ii;'!'    SAIiHATII.  51 

fiom  l)ontinc^  sucli  a  man  out  now.  The  only  reason 
lor  not  doin^'  it  then,  was  my  uttei"  humiliation.  1 
felt  too  guilty;  too  much  his  e([ual;  that's  it,"' 

A. — "Stick  to  the  narrative." 

"Well,  I  didn't  kick  liim  out,  nor  order  him  out.  J 
asked,  as  soon  as  1  could   suHiciently  recover: 

"What  is  the  t)l)ject  ol'  \-our  earl\-  visit,  crentlemen ?" 

"You  see,  Johnny,  old  hoss,"  begun  Blackmail,  who 
was  by  this  time  stretched  on  the  sofa,  full  length,  with 
soiled  boots,  a  two-cent  ciyar  in  his  mouth,  and  a  thor- 
oughly at-home  expression  in  his  face;  "you  see  we 
come  airly — we  are  the  airly  l)irds  spoken  of  in  scrip- 
ter',  that  gits  the  wornuii — -Jones,  you  know,  he's  our 
llsh-bait;  an'  you  see,  Johnny,  I  knovv'd  from  the  hunt 
you  made  last  night,  you's  a  reg'lar  old  cooner.  You 
kin  allers  tell  by  the  scratches  on  'is  nose,  whether  a 
dog's  a  good  cooner;  you  see  he  goes  right  in  to  chaw 
'em;" — and  here  this  brutal  wretch  gave  a  leer  at  my 
nose,  and  a  wink  at  Mr.  Sleek — then  resuming,  "You 
sec  me  an'  Sleek's  hard  to  beat  on  the  trail,  or  in  the 
Hght;  an'  as  Jones  an'  his  hounds  is  a  goin'  to  make  an 
almighty  big  hunt  at  the  beer  garden  an'  the  brewery, 
both,  to-day,  me  an'  Sleek  jist  drapped  in,  kinder  airly, 
you  know,  to  stir  the  old  cooner  up,  fearin'  he*'s  sleepin' 
too  — " 

"Exactly,  Mr.  Smith,  Mr,  Blackman  is  right,"  inter- 
rupted the  more  diplomatic  Sleek,  "that  the  canvass  is 
short  and  must  be  vigorously  conducted.  Jones  con- 
templates a  big  run  on  the  brewer}'  and  Snigglefritz's 
beer  garden,  and  we  must  do  all  we  can  to  counteract 
this  move;  because  it  would  ruin  you  and  the  party 
l)Oth,   to   be  defeated  this   time.     Jones   will    have  his 


52  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

friends  there,  at  both  places,  early,  and  Mr.  Blackman 
and  I  came  early  to  warn  you,  and  ask  your  co-opera- 
tion— that  is,  any  suggestion  or  aid  you  might  — " 

"That's  comin'  to  biz!"  intenupted  Blackman,  "an' 
you  see,  Smithy,  it's  — " 

"Yes,  whatever  little  advice-or-or-othcr  assistance 
that  might  be  used,  cautiously,  to  secure — ''  began 
Sleek. 

"My  God!  gentlemen,"  1  exclaimed,  for  what  small 
stock  of  virtuous  indignation  I  had  left,  was  fully 
aroused.  "Do  you  come  heie  to  ask  me  to  violate  my 
■  sense  of  propriety,  decency,  right,  religion,  everything 
an  honest  man  h<ilds  sacred — above  all  the  holy  Chris- 
tian Sabbath — to  secure  my  election  to  the  petty  office 
of  mayor  of  the  little  town  of  Bunkumville?"  This 
brought  Mr.  Blackman  to  a  sitting  posture. 

"Mr.  Smith!"  be  rather  exclaimed,  the  first  time  he 
had  respectfully  addressed  me;  sucii  men  are  always 
disgustingly  familiar  when  pleased,  or  formally  res- 
pectful when  mad.  "All  I've  got  to  say  is,  you  can 
run  or  not.  If  you  are  goin'  to  run,  run  to  beat.  I've 
spent  my  money  an'  my  time  to  git  you  the  <)'-nomina- 
tion,  an'  as  a  democrat,  think  it's  your  juty  to  make  it 
win;  an'  I  don't  like  to  bear  a  man  sav  the  great  offis 
of  "mare"  ain't  n(j  offis  at  all,  an'  the  town  he  li\es  in 
no  town  at  all — an'  I  don't  — " 

1  was  waiting  for  him  to  conclude,  to  invite  him  out 
of  the  house,  vvluii  the  diplomats  ol"  Sleek  inti-rrupted 
him.  Sleek  made  some  apologv  lor  Blackman.  Said 
Jones  was  unscrupulous.  I  nnist  necessarily  concede, 
to  a  slight  extent,  some  of  my  praiseworthy  notions  of 
right    and   wrong;  especiallv    in  politics,  il'  not    in    my 


A    QUIKT    SAlUiA  Til.  53 

own  behalf,  then  for  the  good  of  the  party.  J  tohl  Mr. 
Sleek  I  (lid  not  think  any  political  party,  or  other  or- 
ganization, had  any  right  to  demand  the  sacrifice  of  a 
man's  personal  honor  on  the  altar  of  party  tcalty. 

"Le\s  go,  Slcekv;  Mr.  Dr.  Smith  don't 'preciate  'is 
friends,"  said  Blackman,  assiiiiiiii.;-  :i  standing  posture. 

"Hold  on,  Hlackey,"  replied  Sleek,  "don't  Hy  off  in 
a  tantrum;  Mr.  Smith  is  quite  correct  in  his  views  of 
right  and  wrong,  although,  politically,  they  would  not 
work  out  good  results — unless  manageil  l)y  iiis  party 
friends  with  some  — " 

"Yes,  that's  so!  If  he  won't  wtirk  himself,"  said 
Bhukman,  "let  him  give — " 

"I  was  going  to  say,"  resumed  the  wily  Sleek,  "a 
man's  friends  will  d(>  the  hard  fighting,  and  what's 
call'd  the  disagreeable  work,  if  properly  aided  by  the 
candidates;  and,  Mr.  Smitii,  unless  you  contribute 
yoiM"  in — " 

"That's  jist  percisely  what  ails  the  purp,"  interrup- 
ted Black  man,  showing  he  had  reached  the  long-de- 
sired pointat  last;  "yes,  Johnny,  contribute  the  shekels, 
your  spondulixes;  that's  what  knocks  'em.  There's 
Flunx,  an'  Bil,  an'  Yin,  an'  all  the  boys;  all  you've  got 
to  do  to  stop  'em  from  yelpin'  with  the  Jones'  hounds, 
is  to  }ist  ]^itch  'em  a  nip  o'  government  greens;  you 
know  crreens  is  sfood  for  a  sick  hound — an'  they'll  turn 
right  about  face  an'  work  like  l)eavers  for  you.  Smithy, 
old  boy." 

This  scamp,  Blackman,  after  delivering  this  cold- 
blooded proposition  of  bribery  and  corruption,  in  such 
shockingly  unvarnished  terms,  winked  at  me;  winkeil 
in  a  way  so  confidential,  so  suggestive  of — come,  John- 


54  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

ny,  we  know  yon,  you  are  one  of  these  sly  old  coons 
that  play  the  pious  dodge;  that  use  a  little  religious 
vaneering;  but  vou  are  worse  than  we;-  though,  for 
the  sake  of  hariiionv  in  the  part\- — more  for  the  sake 
of  your  money  in  our  pockets,  we'll  take  pity  on  you; 
not  expose  you;  and  if  you  shell  out  liberally  we'll 
condescend  to  forgixe  you  for  being  an  arrant  old  hypo- 
crite. 1  arose,  and  told  Mr.  Blackman  the  conyersa- 
tion  was  disagreeable,  very  annoying;  if  there  was  any 
proper  thing  1  could  say  or  do  for  them,  1  was  ready; 
but  never,  by  implication,  word  or  deed,  \youl(l  1 
accede  to  any  proposition  of  bribery  or  corruption. 

Here  lilackman  took  several  steps  toward  the  door, 
and  in  a  passionate  tone,  loud  enough  to  liring  my  wife 
to  enquire  the  matter,  said: 

•■'I  don't  want  any  ov  your  money,  l)i".  John  Smith, 
Es(|.  I  don't.  Squire  Sleek  an'  me  eorne  here,  this 
airl\'  in  the  mornin',  to  do  \ou  a  faNor,  at"ter  workin' 
hard  as  beavers  all  night  for  you,  an'  this  is  the  thanks 
we  git,  to  be  insulted  in  your  own  house;  an'  now  all 
Vxc  got  to  say  is,  Mr.  Dr.  J.  Smith,  you  can  jist  elect 
yourself  for  me.  I'll  wash  my  hands  of  yon,  an'  all 
I've  got  to  say,  I'll  tell  I'^lunx,  an'  Hill,  an'  ^'in:  an'  all 
of  'em  was  to  meet  me  at  the  bre\yry  at  precisely  9 
cr'clock  this  nioniin',  an'  we  was  to  beat  the  socks  olPn 
Jones — if — if  W(.'  only  had  the  pi/erinktums — the  sin- 
ews o'  war — an'  all  V\c  got  to  say,  if  Mr.  Smith  don't 
help  his  friends,  his  friends  \yont  hel]>  him  an'  no\y 
good  mornin',  Mr.  Smitii.      Sleeky,  aint  \t)u  goin"?" 

"No!  (io  ahead.  Til  sec-  \()u  on  the  scpiare,"  and 
following  lilaikmaii  to  llu'  door,  Sk-i-k  said  in  a  stage 
\yhispcr,  "1  )on'l  talk  \\  il  li  an\  dik'  till  1  see  \()U  again," 


•A    Ql'lIiT    SAI5HATH.  55 

then  retiiniinj^,  said :  "Mr.  Smith,  I'm  exceedingly 
sorry  that  ^ou  misconstrued  my  meaning — that  is,  took 
the  words  <jf  Mr.  Bhickman — who,  as  you  recollect 
interrupted  me  before  I  had  expressed  my  meaning, 
^'ou  know  I  never  mentioned  money." 

"^'ou  can  now  finish,  Mr.  vSleek." 

"I  (.ame  to  warn  you  of"  that  move  Jones  is  to  make 
to-day,  and  thought  if"  my  services  would  })e  accept- 
able, 1  would  go  to  work  and  heat  it,"  said  Mr.  Sleek. 

"Vou  can't,  nor  can  any  other  man,  with  my  con- 
sent, work  for  me  to-day,  Mr.  Sleek.  I'm  obliged, 
for  you  propose  a  greater  sacrifice  for  me,  than  I 
would  make  for  you,  or  any  other  man.  Besides,  Mr. 
vSleek,  I  have  already  written  my  card  of  withdrawal, 
to  l)e  published  earh'  in   the  morning." 

At  this  announcement.  Sleek  looked  like  an  embas- 
sador without  a  mission.  He  said  he  was  sorry  to  hear 
it;  hoped  I  would  reconsider;  for  he  had  neglected 
the  day  before  a  very  important  matter  to  work  for 
my  nomination,  (I  afterwards  learned  he  was  for 
Peters)  and  it  was  too  late  after  the  convention  was 
over,  but  was  necessarily  to  be  attended  to  that  day, 

"What?  Sunday?  If  it  is  anything  proper  that  I 
should  know,  or  can  jJi'operly  assist  you  in,  I  am  will- 
ing." 

"Oidy  a  little  church  matter,"  he  very  innocently 
replied. 

"Church  matter?     Of  what  nature,  if  I  may  know?" 

"Oh!  I  promised  to  hand  parson  Watson  twenty-five 
dollars  balance  on  subscription.  I  guess  it  will  do  to- 
morrow." 


56  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"No!  If  you  promised  the  preacher  to  pay  it  to-chi}-, 
vou  should  do  it  bv  all  means." 

"A  man  can't  when  he  can't.  I  ought  to  have  got 
it  yesterday,"  he  said,  musingly. 

"I  have  got  about  that  much  money  in  my  pocket. 
If  it  will  be  acceptable  as  a  loan,  till  to-morrow,  1  will 
let  you  have  it,  under  the  peculiar  and  eminently 
proper  circumstances." 

He  took  it  with  many  thanks  and  departed. 

I  think  you  hypothecated  a  reader  for  this  MS.,  and 
if  that  hypothetical  reader  has  toiled  this  far  he  waded 
through  the  contract  in  the  first  chapter,  which  was,  if 
he  couldn't  sudmit  to  be  bored,  occasionally,  with  my 
mammoth  moral  auger,  then  and  there  to  stop  the 
reading,  and  vow  he  never  knew  such  a  man  as  John 
Smith. 

A. — "Well?  ^'ou  can't  go  on  very  far  in  this  chap- 
ter; don't  let  your  auger  run  into  the  next." 

"What  do  you  think  of  such  propositions  as  iSlack- 
man's,  and  his  way  of  putting  them?" 

A. — "They  are  a  part  or  class  of  political  machin- 
ery. Belong  low  down.  Class:  slush  and  bribery. 
John,  there  is  a  striking  difference  between  political 
and  agricultural  and  mechanical  machinery.  In  the 
last  two  kinds  the  machinist  riuis  the  machine  or  it 
don't  run  at  all;  in  the  j^olitical  machine,  however,  if 
the  engineer  don't  run  the  machine,  the  machine  will 
run  the  engineer.  E.  g. :  Hlackman  was  an  miskiiful 
han;l ;  he  lost  his  situation  by  taking  hold  of  the  mach- 
ine in  a  bungling  way;  whereas  Sleek  showed  himself 
a  master  hand.     lie  stepped  nimbly  aboard  tlie  power- 


A    (iUIKT    SABliATII.  57 

fill  locomotive,  Joliii  Smith,  on  the  track;  instructions: 
quick  run  to  mayoralty." 

"But  I  told  him,  I  had  declined — though  I  am  sat- 
ished  he  knew  they  would  compel  mc  to  run." 

A. — "He  understood  all  that,  and  more.  He  had 
studied  the  machine,  he  knew  all  about  it,  but  you  see 
your  Saturday  night's  irregularity,  disconcerted  him. 
He  thought  there  was  a  tricky  lever.  Not  wishing  to 
try  it  himself,  he  brought  the  bungling  Blackman  to 
take  right  hold  of  it,  and  stand  the  consequences.  He 
was  then  satisfied  Saturday  night's  bad  work,  was  no 
fault  of  the  machine:  it  was  steady,  straightfoi'ward 
and  bound  to  work  right.  He  then  deftly,  though 
firmly  seized  the  lever  of  your  throttle  valve,  your 
manly  piety,  and  you  sprang  forward  with  an  irresista- 
ble  bound." 

"You've  taken  the  moral  auger  and  bored  with  more 
skill  and  less  pain  than  I  could  have  done,  though  not 
exactly  in  the  same  direction.  I'll  only  ask  one  or  two 
questions  in  conclusion : 

"Don't  you  know  that  such  red-hot  vicious  appli- 
cations, as  Blackman's  proposition,  applied  to  a  man's 
moral  nature,  if  frequently  repeated,  will  sear  and 
slough  away  all  the   morality  in  a  man? 

"Don't  you  know  that  nine  men  in  ten,  per  force  of 
moral  courage  or  common  honesty,  resist  such  applica- 
tions, were  it  not  for  the  appearance,  aye,  from  the 
universality  of  such  corrupt  practices — for  the  actual 
fact,  of  going  back  on  themselves,  their  friends  and 
their  party?  They  must  submit,  because  it's  a  personal, 
a  social,  and  undoubtedly,  a  political  necessity. 

"Don't  you   know  of  the  millions  of  candidates  we 

have  had,  and  will  have,  that  if  one  accedes, only  once, 

— S 


yS  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

to  such  villainous  propositions,  it  produces  this  wide- 
spread corruption — each  adding  a  drop  till  a  vast  ocean 
submerges  every  interest? 

"The  candidates  have  thus,  drop  by  drop,  formed 
this  polluted  ocean ;  and  they  shouldn't  be  surprised, 
nor  turn  up  their  noses,  when  they  catch  a  gudgeon, 
to  find  him  fishy  and  badly  tainted  at  that." 

A.— "Done  ?" 

"Till  to-morrow  night.     Yes!" 


QUIET    SAIU'.ATII    CONTINUES.  159 


NIGHT     IV. 

QUIET    SABRATH    CONTINUES. 

Emblem  of  eternal  rest. — Old  so7ig.      Very. 

We  were  at  breakfast,  and  my  wife  started  from  her 
chair  with  the  exchimation — 

"There  it  is  again!" 

"What,  my  dear?" 

"That  everlasting,"  (this  accounts  for  "everlasting" 
nomination  and  other  everlasting  things.  It  was  her 
favorite,  stereotyped  qualifier)  "bell  wire." 

I  could  hear  nothing;  but  you  know  when  a  wo- 
man's ear  is  set  to  any  particular  kind  of  music,  she 
can  hear  it  through  any  number  of  walls  and  key 
holes;  so  she  heard  the  ominous  rattle  of  the  aforesaid 
coils — heard  it?  Yes,  heard  it  distinctly,  and  declared 
emphatically,  she  would  not  answer  it, 

I  was  vexed  at  this  second  untimely  intrusion,  but 
got  up  from  my  half-finished  breakfast,  went  to  the 
hall  door,  and  ushered  in  Prof.  William  Frederick 
Ophcleide,  "Preceptor  of  the  Bunkumville  Brass 
Band,"  as  per  card,  which  he  pomjDOusly  handed  to 
me.  In  avoirdupois  I  should  say  he  was  about  one 
tun — of  lager  beer;  in  self-poise,  much  heavier.  He 
took  a  part  of  a  seat  (it  wasn't  broad  or  long  enough 
for  a  whole  seat)  on  the  sofa,  which  groaned  threaten- 


6o  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

ingly  under  the  unusual  strain;  took  a  meerschaum 
pipe,  the  size  of  an  ordinary  sugar-bowl,  from  his 
mouth,  puffed  out  a  cloud  of  smoke  that  gave  me  a 
splendid  Indian  summer  sunset  view  of  his  round,  ru- 
bicund face,  and  thus  he  spake: 

"Herr — oder  Meester  Schmidt,  ich  bin  Herr  Wil- 
helm  Fritz  Ophklite,  der  lehrer,  oder  vas  sie  sagen  auf 
der  Englische  sprache — I  vas  die — het-mann  von  der 
Pooncomfil  Prass  Pan,  so-huh;  so!  Ich,  oder  I  vill 
der  Englisch  sprachen,  so  das  sie  kan  mir  verstehen, 
unterstan.  I  wunche-vish  to  speil-oder  blay  der  ver- 
umste-der  pest  von  instrumentarl  mooseek  machen 
als  sie  never  vas  saw  in  ihr  lifes  pefore,  all  der  dime; 
so!  huh!  so!  Py  Herr  Snickelfritz's,  hees  pier  carten, 
fer  a  kline,  oder  leetle  pit  von  geld,  oder  money,  als 
ever  vas — so!  shust  so?  1  dells  sie,  Herr  Schmidt,  das 
vas  so  druc  als  breachmcnt;  he  vas,  yow  shust  pet,  so! 
Ich  schust  vill  evcra  dime  pet  der  lager  he  vas  rccht! 
so!  huh!  so!" 

A. — "Of  course  you  closed  the  contract." 

"I  believe  I  did  say  "Jah" — all  the  (ierman  I  then 
knew." 

A. — "Then  you  tlidn't  know  you  were  closing  the 
contract  with 'Jah'?" 

"Know?  of  course  not.  I  discovered  afterwards,  as 
you'll  discover.  I  knew  I  had  pleased  Herr  Ophcleide, 
for  he  gave  his  tnamnioth  meerschaum  two  or  three 
exhaustivelv  complacent  whiffs,  and  tliiis  lucidly  dis- 
coursed :" 

"Ich  sage,  say  auf  der  I'^nglische,  1  dinks  all  der 
dime,  sie  shust  slaght,  oder  j^eets  das  Spit/.boobe,  Herr 
Shones,  als   er   never  \  as   pefore,  py    bees  life,  all  der 


QUIET    SABBATH    CONTINUES.  6l 

dime.  Er  sagdt  mir,  das  he  py  tain,  nicht  mehr  als 
zehn,  oder  ten  thaler  gaben!  so!  huh!  so!  tner  zehn 
thaler  fur  das  pest  prass  pan  mooseek  als  never  vas — 
unt  er  schust  dold  niir,  py  hell,  zu  gehen  all  der  dime; 
unt  I  schust  eoomed  recht  schnell,  gwick,  py  Ilerr 
Schmidt,  unt  ilold  vas  I  tid,  unt  you  dold,  schust  als 
von  leetle  man,  Jah!  so?  huh!  so!  1  makes  all  ter 
poys  vvahl,  fur  dich  unt  trink  huntcrt  glass  von  pier. 
I  schust  pet  mine  prass  horn  da  von — so!  huh!  so! — 
unt  — " 

To  close  the  interview,  I  interrujited,  "Is  there  any 
thing  I  can  do  for  you,  Mr.  Ophcleide?" 

"Ein-ander  dime  vill  do  Herr  Schmidt;  Ich  sorge 
met  fur  das  geld  heute,  morgan  est  fruh  genug — you 
say  soon.  Goot  morgan;  Ich  vill  sage  der  poys  vas  a 
fel  von  a  heller  Ilerr  Schmidt  vas!  Ila!  ha! — and  to 
my  great  relief  he  was  gone.  I  went  liack  to  finish 
my  breakfast. 

"How  many  foreigners  did  you  entertain?"  asked 
my  wife,  then  giving  me  a  scrutinizing  look,  said: 

"Mr.  Smith,  you  told  me  you  were  to  cjuit  that  ever- 
lasting old  pipe.  You  ought  to  ))e  ashamed  to  smoke 
in  presence  of  guests;  and  there's  the  parlor  curtains'' 
— away  she  went,  instanter,  but  was  back  in  about  two 
seconds,  looking  pale  as  a  ghost,  and  breathing  spas- 
modically— 

"For-heav-heavens-sa-sake,  go.  Smith,  if  you-can 
cut-ohdear!-cut  your  way  through  with  a  hatch-et,  and 
let  that  great  fog  of  smo-oke  out.  I  can't-oh-get 
throu«rh  it  to  the  windows-oh!  ah!" 

I  went;  was  astonished;  wondered  why  I  didn't  see 


62  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

it  before,  but  thought   I  was  too   much    absorbed  with 
the  conversation  of  Herr  Ophcleide. 

"What  did  that  tobacco  \olcano  want,  an\'  how?" 
asked  Mrs.  S. 

"My  dear,  y()u  know  about  as  well  as  I  do  Could 
n't  understand  a  word  he  said;  suppose  it  related  to — " 

"That  everlasting"  nominaticMi,  I'll  be  bound,"  she 
quickly  interrupted. 

"Should  not  be  surprised.'' 

"T  wish  you  had  never  got  it." 

"More  do  I.  It  was  greatness  thrust  upon  me,  as 
the  immortal  bard  says;  I  could  not  help  it." 

"Maybe  you'd  better  decline,"  she  said  in  a  dubious 
tone. 

"1  will,"  I  answered  with  determination. 

I  h^d  finished  my  breakfast;  was  musingly  balancing 
my  teaspoon  on  the  rim  of  the  cup,  thinking  of  the 
probable  effect  of  my  refusal  to  run,  when  I  was  again 
startled  by  the  rattle  of  those  coils  of  wire  in  the  hall. 

"There  it  is  again!  Rattle,  jingle,  rattle,  from  ever- 
lasting unto  everlasting;"  exclaimed  my  wife,  rather 
sharply.  "/  won't  go  a  step,  and  I  think  Mr.  Smith, 
hereafter,  when  you  hold  a  Sabbath  morning  levee, 
for  convenience  sake,  if  you  can't  aflbid  an  usher,  you'd 
better  take  a  seat  on  the  stooj)." 

"Be  calm  my  deai",  'We'll  stand  (lie  storm,  it  wont 
be  long.'  1  went  to  the  door  and  was  handed,  by  a 
ragged  boy,  tlie  following  note;  the  urchin  stating 
peremjjtoriU ,  'I'ap  \yants  you  to  answer  right  oil"."' 


(iUIET    SAIiMAIII    CONTINUES.  63 

Mr.  John  Smiiii,  At  Home. 

BuHkumville,  April  yth. 
Sir  : 

1  taken  mi  j)cnn  in  liaiul  t<j  inform  you  if  so  be  you  wantid 
to  git  electiond  you  wood  better  git  mi  cirvysis  oil  the  Bois  sez 
1  am  a  Bully  Boy  two  git  Vown  'mong  um,  pleeze  cend  5$  i'lv 
dullers  bi  barrer  an' 

Mutch  o  Blige 

Yores  Expectfly 

JHON  GAY. 
iioty  bean,  I  am  a  Applecant  fur  orfis  of  Strete  inspackter  an' 
want  yow  to  rekleck  me. 

J.  G." 

I  had  some  difficulty  in  deciphering  this  badly  writ- 
ten, but  characteristically  modest  communication.  I 
did  answer  it  "right  off,"  by  rec^uesting  the  boy,  to  tell 
his  father  I  did  not  transact  any  business  on  ^Sunday. 

The  heir  apparent  of  the  house  of  Gay,  gave  me  a 
you'd-better-look-out-old-fellow  glance,  and  went  his 
way  muttering,  "I'll  bet  noodles  pap'll  wax  him  out'n 
his  boots.'' 

When  I  returned  to  the  sitting  room  I  found  my 
wife  with  a  new  expression  on  her  face.  You've  seen 
women  replete  with  curiosity,  though  wearing  that 
transjDarent  mask  of  indifference  that,  I'm  ashamed  to 
say,  but  you  know  it's  true,  we  delight  so  much  to  see; 
especially  when  we  feel  a  petty  vindictiveness;  a  boy- 
ish revenge,  that  will  whip  the  smallest  boy  in  school 
after  the  teacher  has  flogged  him,  or  kick  the  cat  sky- 
high  after  his  mother  has  boxed  his  ears.  Prompted  by 
this  manly  spirit,  I  sat  down,  without  saying  a  word, 
and  pretended  to  read.  I  knew  this  state  of  affairs 
could  not  last  long;  was  assured  of  its  imminent  rup- 
ture when  I  saw  my  wife  eyeing,  with  intense  interest, 


64  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

my  right  vest  pocket.  Furtively  glancing  in  the  same 
direction,  I  saw  the  note  of  Gay,  sticking  halfway  out. 
I  was  at  first  vexed  at  myself  for  this  carelessness,  as  I 
did  not  wish  my  wife  to  see  what  manner  of  corres- 
pondent I  was  honored  with;  however,  quickly  recur- 
ring to  my  magnanimous  desire  to  take  vicarious  satis- 
faction out  of  somebody,  I  was  glad.  It  was  just  the 
move  to  run  her  wild;  a  note,  to  her  husband,  and  he 
evidently  trying  to  conceal  it.  I  saw  all  this:  and  as 
all  considerate  husbands  will  do  under  similar  circum- 
stances; did  my  very  best  to  disarm  (?)  suspicion,  by 
hastily  thrusting  the  note  down  deep  into  the  pocket, 
and  turning  a  hasty,  confused  glance  at  Mrs.  Smith. 
I  then  read  on.  I  did  not  read  long  though.  The 
move  was  not  diplomatic;  precisely  the  reverse,  as  it 
precipitated  the  crisis  it  was  designed  (?)  to  avert.  The 
suspicion,  instead  of  grounding  arms  and  surrendering 
unconditionally ,'declared  war  forthwith.  In  the  onset, 
Mrs.  Smith  adopted  the  old  strategetic  move,  resorted 
to  by  so  many  men  and  women:  that  is,  an  intimation 
that  she  knew  all  about  it;  to  prove  the  same,  cites 
one  or  two  known  trivial  facts  in  connection  with  what 
is  desired  to  be  learned. 

"Mr.  Smith,  what  ragmulfin  of  a  boy  was  that?" 
"Bo}'?  Oh!  That  young  gentleman?  I  think  he's 
a  scion  of  an  illustrious  descent — very  great  descent. 
One  member  of  the  present  family  is  an  aspirant  for 
political  preferment;"  I  said,  with  that  grim  kind  of 
humor  that  is  not  satire — rather  a  hilarit\'  of  despera- 
tion, and  is  decidedly  American.  \'()u  have  witnessed 
it  when  a  party  of  pic-nickers  or  hunters  sally  forth 
Cull  of  "great  ex])ectations"  of  a  grand  old  time,  A 
storm    arises;  tiiev    aie  apprehensive ;  Innsts  on   them, 


QUIET    SAB15AT1I    CONTINUES.  65 

they  arc  mad;  beats  heavily  on  them,  they  growl; 
comes  clown  mercilessly,  they  lapse  into  a  glum  silence; 
increases  in  fury  and  discomfort;  then  suddenly  the 
American  mind  leacts  into  this  hihwity  of  desperation, 
when  Americans  can  and  do  have  fun,  storms  to  tiie 
contrary  not\vithstandin<r.  This  reactive  force,  this 
hilarity  of  desperation  impelled  me  to  give  my  wife 
the  above  answer.     She  replied: 

"Mr.  Smith,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  carry  on  a 
secret  correspondence  with  such  people." 

"Correspondence?"  echoed  I,  giving  a  nervous 
twitch  at  my  vest  })ocket. 

"Ye-es,  cor-res-pondence;"  she  replied,  with  a  sneer- 
ing drawl.  "You  need't  deny  it;  didn't  I  see  through 
the  ell-window.  I  know  all  about  it.  What  did  you 
do  with  the  note  that  scion  of  the  illustrious  house  gave 
you?  If  it's  not  a  secret  correspondence,  why  don't 
you  let  me  see  the  note?" 

"Because  it  refers  to  that  'everlasting'  nomination, 
and  I  thought  it  would  be  disagreeable." 

"Oh!  You  are  very  considerate  all  at  once;  but  as 
I  am  the  sharer  of  your  joys  and  sorrows,  would  you 
be  so  kind  as  to  let  me  bear  my  part,  if  it's  the  latter; 
or  rejoice  with  you  if  it's  the  former?" 

This  was  a  home  thrust,  and  knocked  me  to  rights. 
I  relented  jiromptly,  and  told  her  the  whole  truth: 
that  I  did  get  a  miserable  scrawl  from  a  contemptible 
person  by  the  name  of  Gay;  in  which  said  person  just 
proposed  to  blackmail  me,  and  tlien  had  the  efTrontry 
to  ask  my  aid  in  getting  a  position,  if  I  succeeded  in 
being  elected  mayor. 

"Gay?     Gay,  is  it?      Well,   I    never!     Gay!"      Yes, 
that's  the   \ery  name,"  ejaculated  my  wife. 
—9 


66  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"What  do  you  mean,  my  dear?  Do  you  know 
them?''     Without  an'swering,  she  continued: 

"It's  a  pity  people  can't  let  others  alone,"  and  Mrs. 
S.  looked  distressed. 

All  marrietl  women  like  their  husbands  to  l)e  pros- 
perous, popular  and  renowned.  They  are  proud  of  it. 
What  a  pity  they  unwittingl)'  pride  themselves  on  the 
very  accidents  of  this  life  that  are  surest  to  prove  de- 
structive of  their  happiness.  Because  such  fortunate 
men,  in  large  proportion,  sooner  or  later  become  the 
dupes  of  designing  men  or  women;  oftener  of  the  lat- 
ter. How  many  brilliant  men,  of  great  moral  endur- 
ance, have  at  last  fallen  into  the  deftly  woven  silken 
toils  of  some  fair,  heartless  charmer." 

A. — "Please  stop  that  mammoth  auger  and  proceed 
with  the  narrative." 

"Yes,  yes.  Well,  after  a  short  silence,  my  wife  re- 
sumed : 

"Yes,  that  Gay  girl!  She's  very  gay,  I  dare  say. 
She  is  the  very  same  pert  Miss,  I  warrant,  that  Mrs. 
Thompson  said  that  Mrs.  Watson  told  her  (Mrs.  S.) 
was  running  after  Mr.  Watson  all  the  time,  when  he 
was  mayor,  to  get  a  situation  in  the  free  school." 

Hello!  thought  I.  Here's  a  complication.  I  told 
my  wife  she  was  mistaken ;  she  would  have  to  guess 
again, 

"Guess!  Guess,  Mr.  .Smith,"  she  continued,  "guess, 
when  y()u'\  c  liccn  caught  trying  to  conceal  the  note 
before  my  eyes.  It's  bad  enough  to  be  bothered  out 
of  my  life  with  the  everlasting  nomination;  but  it's  too 
had,  and  more  than  I  can  or  will  stand,  when  an  old 
married  man,  like  you,  goes  to  carrying  on  a  secret  cor- 
respondence with  a  young  school  niarm." 


QUIET    SAIJUATH    CONTINUES.  6'J 


u 


•My  dear  wife  )()U  wronj^"  yourself,  your  lnisl)aiul, 
ami,  what  is  lai'  worse,  you  seriously  wrons;-  an  inno- 
cent girl,  who  never  harmed  you  or  yours.  1  kn(nv 
Miss  Gay,  and — " 

"Very  likely,"  interrupted  my  wife,  "and  she  must 
he  intimately  acquainted  witli  you,  to  be  writing  you 
notes,  you  are  afraid  to  show  your  wife,  and  sending 
them  by  ragged  boys  to  ni}-  own  house;  it's  more 
than—" 

"I'll  explain  it  all   to  \()u  my  dear,  and   then — " 

"Why  don't  you  show  me  the  note  then?"  she  again 
interrupted.  "Why  did  you  shove  it  down  in  your 
pocket  so  quick,  when  you  saw  I  had  discovered  it? 
and  then  give  me  that  guiltv  look?  Tnat's  what  I 
want  to  know?" 

"Please  let  me  explain;  the  note  1  got  was — "  here 
that  thundering,  snaky  liell  wire  began  to  jumj)  all 
over  the  hall  floor  in  the  liveliest  possible  manner.  I 
w^as  satisfied  some  exciteil  hand  was  tugging  at  the 
knob  end. 

"Mercy  on  me!  Another  note,  of  course,"  ejacu- 
lated Mrs.  S.  "Hie  thee  Johnny,  fly  thee,  on  wings 
of  love." 

"Don't  be  silly  my  dear." 

I  started  for  the  door,  wondering  if  this  was  to  con- 
tinue all  day.  1  dislike  liai'S  very  much,  but  I  believe 
I  would  have  employed,  for  the  rest  of  that  Sunday, 
any  number  of  ushers  on  the  sole  qualification  of  dip- 
lomatic lying.  On  o}Xining  the  door,  in  popped,  sans 
cereniony,  a  nimble  Irishman,  with  a  scarlet  neck-tie 
with  ample  l)ovv-knot,  a  sky  blue  satin  vest,  and  shil- 
lalah — this  was  all  the  make-up  I  could  note  before  he 
opened  his  mitrailleuse  tongue  on  me. 


68  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Tap  o'  tlie  morrurning  twil  yez  haner,  me  name  is 
Patherick  Flinnigin  i>'  the  ould  sthock  o'  Flinnigins  o' 
Tipperary,  an'  it's  yer  haner's  silf  as  should  know  me 
all  this  whoile  fur  ivcr  so  long  as  may  loiks  yez  remim- 
ber  it  was  niver  a  sowl  save  Pat  Flinnigan  as  dilved 
wid  ther  hod  whin  yez  honor  was  afther  bildin'  o'  this 
silf  same  risidinee  wherein  yez  are  in  this  blissid 
minnit." 

Here  was  a  half  comma  pause,  and  I  struck  at  it 
frantically,  and  luckily  hit  it. 

"Will  you  walk  in,  Mr.  Flannagan,  and  be  seated? 
You  appear  excited." 

"All  thanks  twill  yer  honor,  Init  it's  mesilf  as  hasn't 
a  wae  bit  o'  toime  for  Lakin'  ov  a  sate,  an'  yersilf  is 
moighty  bloind  roight  whan  yer  say  it's  mesilf  as  has 
that  silf  same  excited — got  it  rale  bad  the  day 
barrin  it's  the  Sabbath — an'  barrin  thai  same  I'd  a 
fetched  'im  a  clip  as  \\d  er  sint  'im  to  grass  quicker'n 
thray  shicks  o'  a  shape's  tale  by  the  howly  St.  Pather- 
ick, an'  his  ane  mither  wadn't  a  towld  'im  fram  Adam's 
air  ax,   at  all.     Shurc — " 

I  made  a  snap  shot  at  tliis  thin  pause,  and  pinned 
the  word  beyonil   sure. 

"lias  there  been  any  dilliculty?  Yuu  are  perhaps 
mistaken.  I'm  not  the  mayor  of  the  city;  only  the 
democratic  nominee,  so  far,  and  lia\e  nothing  to  do  with 
enforcing  the  ordinances.  IMl  direct  you  to  the  may- 
or's  hou— " 

"Arrah!  It's  mesilf  tliat's  irol  sich  a  nimiy  as  to 
not  know  the  prisint  mare.  l'\iitli  an'  l'\e  had  siveral 
inthroductions  twill  'im,  an'  it's  mesili"  as  hilped  to  git 
yez  haner  in  the  hairnis  fur  the  galoorious  ould  dimoc- 
racy.     An  it's  this  sill"  same    laddie    hocU    that's    niver 


Quiet  sabhath  continues.  69 

going  hack  an  ycr  haiicr,  nivcr  a  toiiiie,  an'  ye/,  hancr 
is  mighty  l)h)ind  roight  whan  yez  think  it's  mcsilf 
that'll  make  fra  use  o'  me  tongue,  me  vote,  me  poorse, 
an'  he  tlad,  me  shillalah  widal,  w  liin   nicissary,  an' — " 

Here  I  thought  of  a  lightning  interruption  Init  gave 
it  up. 

"Yer  haner  I'm  jist  this  hlissid  minnit,  as  loively  as 
mo  pigs  wad  carry  me,  sthraight  from  the  brewery, 
an'  what-iver  does  yez  think,  hut  that,  whin  Tim  Fla- 
herty, Johnny  Soolivan,  an'  Dinnis  McGrath  an'  me- 
silf  cam  twil  that  same  ])rewer\',  airly  this  hlissid 
Sabbath  morruiiiing,  whoi\er  wad  yez  bae  afther 
thinkin'  we  should  say,  save  that  bloody  blatherin' 
bla'gard  ov  a  IJlickman  wad  hookclbirry  papers, 
an'  a  snoot  for  all  the  worrald  as  bii^:  as  a  meshannok 
paratie,  an'  that  dirty  dhrivin'  tongue  o'  his,  shoovlin 
out  whappin  lies  fasther  thin  ould  Nick  'imsilf  could 
do  it  at  all,  at  all,  an'  all  about  yer  haner  thaking  a  we 
dhrap  too  miny  ther  night  an'  gittin  in  twill  a  scrimmigc 
an'  one  o'  the  murtherin  spalpeens  handin'  o'yer  haner 
a  paler  an'  the  smiller."  (Here  Pat  glanced  at  my 
nose  but  kept  right  on.)  "The  silf  same  worruds,  the 
same  T  can  soobstantiate  by  the  tistimony  o'  Tim  Fla- 
herty, Johnny  Soolivan  an'  Dinnis  McGrath,  shure. 
An'  if  so  yer  haner  siz  the  worrud,  Pm  the  laddie  as'll 
sind  'im  ter  grass  beyfore  the  sitting  o'  the  sun,  an' jist 
plaze  ter  give  me  the  worrud,'^  here  Pat  paused,  gave 
me  a  look  of  earnest  entreaty — "to  jist  say  the  wor- 
rud." I  could  not  give  Mr.  Flannagan  the  "worrud." 
It  was  a  sore  disappointment  to  Pat,  I  told  him  it  was 
wrong  to  fight,  very  wicked  to  figlit  on  Sunday.  I 
told  him  I  was  thankful  to  him  for  his  self-sacrificing 
friendship  anil  1  would  remember  him  in  kindness. 


^O  JOHN  SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"An'  plaize  ver  honor  yez  doesn't  think  I  come  fur 
pay,  at  all,  at  all?"  he  interrupted,  looking  hurt. 

"Oh!  Not  at  all,  Mr.  Flannagan,  I  know  you  never 
thought  of  such  a  thing."  I  did  know  it  then,  and 
was  thorouohlv  convinced  before  the  end  of  the  cam- 
palgn,  that  I  was  correct  in  my  estimate  of  Pat's  char- 
acter. 

"An'  I'm  dooble  sorra  thit  1  can't  git  the  worrud, 
whin  I  say  how  badly  yez  haner  has  been  thrated," 
said  Pat,  eyeing  my  nose  sympathetically;  which  nose 
I  hatl  not  thought  of  for  the  perplexities  of  the  morn- 
ing; but  can't  say  1  lost  sight  of  it,  or  overlooked  it, 
because  the  latter  was,  by  this  time,  a  physical  imposi- 
bility;  it  was  too  big  to  be  overlooked.  I  told  Pat  it 
was  only  an  accident,  that  nobody  had  struck  me.  I 
was  so  unsophisticated  at  that  time,  that  1  had  not 
comprehended  till  the  interview  with  Mr.  Flannagan, 
what  was  meant  by  "handin'  me  one  on  the  smeller." 
How  much  an  old  political  bummer  would  pity  and 
contemn  such  ignorance  as  this,  at  the  present  time. 

"Will,  an' yer  haner,  I  must  bay  afther  goin',"  said 
Pat.  "Pll  thry  an'  kape  yer  advoice ;  but  I  till  yer 
haner,  thit  darty  lyin'  bla'gard  'ad  bitter  steer 
moighty  shy  o'  Pat  Flinnigin,  because  yez  persaive 
thit  I'll  iiave  to  act  in  silf-defmse — the  same  as  an  me 
own  hook,  shure.  Good  day  twill  }cr  liaiicr,  an'  suc- 
ciss  is  the  slogan." 

"Good  day  Mr.  I'^lannagan,  Til  see  you  again  soon." 
I  closed  the  door  and  was  going  to  the  sitting  room, 
when,  hearing  tlie  hall  door  (piickly  open,  I  tinned 
and  — 

"An'  il"  yc/,  haner  wad  not  liay  nflher  takin'  aflince, 
an'  loike  az  yez  moiglit  know  it's   mesilf  as   is  the  lad 


QUIET    SAHHAril    CONTINUES.  71 

as  ''as  'ad  iiiinny  more  than  si\cral  thiials  o'  the  var- 
tucs  o'  the  saii>e,  aiT  may  l)e  an'  as  yez  a  docther  yer- 
silf  yez  know — liut  az  I  was  afther  sayin'  a  bit  o'  rah 
bafestik  will  sarve  ycr  badly  thrated  nose  a  moighty 
good  turrun.  No  affince,  good  day."  And  Pat  was 
gone  before  I  could  thank  him  for  his  advice,  because 
I  was  confident  he  spoke  from  extensive  and  varied 
experience  in  that  particular    line  of  the  healing  art. 

Patrick  Flannigan  is  a  character,  a  great  many  ob- 
serving politicians  have  seen,  a  true-hearted,  impulsive, 
politically  honest  Irishman;  ready  at  the  "worrud," 
too  eager,  in  fact,  to  do  all  he  can  for  his  party,  wid 
his  tongue,  his  vote,  his  purse  and  his  shillalah,  if  ne- 
cessary; and  he  very  often,  rather  too  often,  finds  this 
self-same  "necessity ;"  if  he  don't  find  it,  he'll  some- 
times make  it. 

After  Mr.  Flamiigan  had  gone  I  walked  back  and 
forth  in  the  hall  a  turn  oi-  two,  thinking  what  trials 
the  professional  politician  must  undergo;  happy  in  the 
thought  that  I  would  be  freed  from  all  these  annoyan- 
ces on  the  morrow,  by  my  withdrawal;  walked  into 
the  parlor  and  seated  myself.  I  wished  Pat  had 
staid  a  little  longer;  knew  him  to  be  the  only  honest 
politician  that  I  had  seen  since  the  "everlasting  "nom- 
ination. I  thought  I  would  even  condescend  to  tattle 
with  him,  so  far  as  to  ask  him  what  else  Blackman 
had  said  concerning  me  at  the  brewery.  Wished  Pat 
would  return,  or  some  one  else  would  come;  felt  more 
reconciled  to  these  interruptions;  wondered  why? 
They  were  not  so  terrible  after  all.  Did  wish  again 
some  one  else,  I  didn't  care  a  cent  who,  would  come. 
Strange,  is  it  not?  Why  such  a  great  change  from  a 
little  while  ago — since  that  ragged  boy  brought  that — 


72  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

Ah!  yes,  J.  Smith,  Esqr.,  "there's  the  rub,"  that  note. 
It  took  some  time  for  it  to  get  through  my  thick  head 
then.  I  could  see  it  much  quicker  now,  that  tliis  great 
change  was  not  because  I  Hked  these  ver}-  annoying 
interviews  in  the  parlor  more,  but  because  I  liked  the 
one  awaiting  me  in  the  sitting-room,  less. 

A. — "Oh,  John,  there  was  nothing  in  all  that.  Your 
wife  is  a  sensible  woman,  and  she  could  see  through  it 
all  when  you  showed  her  the  note." 

"That  is  what  I  intended  to  do,  l)ut  Pat's  calling 
prevented,  and  I  was  possessed  of  that  foolish  dread 
that  very  sensitive,  honest  persons  have  of  investiga- 
tions. I  have  learned  since,  that  I  was  intuitively  cor- 
rect, for  the  reason  that  big  investigations  of  small 
matters  generally  make  them  w'orse.  I  have  also 
learned  that  some  of  the  most  ruinous  family  diilicul- 
ties  have  grown  out  of  circumstances  as  petty,  and  sus- 
picions as  groundless  as  this;  all  on  account  of  too 
much  explanation.  I  concluded  to  get  my  hat  and 
take  a  walk.  Hat!  thunder!  where  was  it.^  Alas! 
what  was  left  of  it  was  in  possession  of  the  enemy.  Its 
poor,  battered  remains  were  lying,  not  in  state,  but 
somewhere,  I  guess,  in  the  sitting-room,  or  somewhere 
else,  as  my  recollection  of  just  where  I  carefully  placed 
it  at  two  o'clock  that  morning,  was  indistinct.  Be- 
sides, if  I  had  the  nobbiest  hat  in  IJunkumville,  there 
was  that  nose.  It  might  ha\e  been  imposed  on  a  care- 
less commimity  on  a  business  day,  but  for  a  Sunday 
nose  it  was  a  disgusting  failure.  Also  hadn't  that  mer- 
cenary brute,  l^lackman,  reported  all  over  town  that  I 
was  drunk,  and  in  a  row,  the  night  beibre.  Ugh! 
How  mean  are   some   people!     How   tlie    mighty  are 


QUIET    SAnnATH    CONTINUES.  73 

fallc-ii!  'I'hcrc  I  was,  John  .Smith;  yea,  honest  Joliii 
Smith,  afraid  to  advance  or  retreat — wanting  to  run 
away  from  the  face  of  man  and  the  tongue  of  woman. 
Tired? 

A. — "Yes,  till  you  say  something  to  wake  me." 

"We'll  fiuit  till  to-morrow  night." 


— 10 


74  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 


NIGHT  V. 

THE    QUIET    SAI'.MATII    CONTINUED. 

"Where  was  I?  Ah!  yes,  I  recollect,  the  same 
eventful  Sunday;  a  prisoner  in  the  parlor,  with  no 
chance  of  escape.  Above,  no  friendly  covering;  hat 
lost  in  the  first  engagement  j  in  front  a  bulwark  of  a 
nose  that  could  not  be  surmounted;  on  either  flank  a 
thousand  eager  spies;  in  the  rear  a  domestic  insurrec- 
tion too  formidable  to  be  encountered.  Enviable  po- 
sition for  honest  John  .Smith,  nominee  of  the  glorious 
old  democratic  party  for  the  oiHce  of  mayor  of  the 
city  of  Bunkumville.  Only  yesterday,  and  without 
spot  or  blemish;  to-day,  ashamed  to  go  out,  aye,  and 
afraid  to  go  into  my  own  house.  Twelve  short  hours 
(no,  not  so;  they  were  the  longest  of  my  life")  a  can- 
didate for  an  oillce  that  1  supposed  my  friends  had 
sought  to  confer  on  me  as  a  reward  of  integrity,  and 
behiild  Ihe  progress.  Charged  with  drunkenness,  riot, 
assault  and  liatterv,  and  w  hat  made  me  shudder  then, 
and  still  liiiits  me,  although  I  suppose  men  ought  to 
become  in(hn-ated  to  such  soft  impeachments — suspect- 
ed of  marital  infidelity,  ^'ou  can  see  how  little  I 
knew  at  that  time  ofllie  world  and  its  wa}s,  social 
and  j)olitical,  ])articul;nly  ])o]itical.  1 1  struck  me  for- 
cibly that  if  twelve  hours  of  this  l>rief  ( ?)  ram])aigii 
C'oiiJ<)  bjing  so  many  accusations,  the  criminal  calendai- 


THK    QUIKT    SAHP.ATII    CONTINUED.  75 

would  1)0  cxiiauslc'd  on  mc  before  1  ;j,'ot  half  tlirou*;h 
the  cami)ai,i;n.  I  was  vexed;  yes,  mad,  when  I 
thoui^ht  all  these  troubles  had  been  lirou^ht  upon  nie 
by  presunied,  oi'  su[)posed  friends.  Of  eourse  I  don't 
include  my  wife.  1  shuddered  ai^aiii  when  tlie  ques- 
tion arose  in  my  mind:  wliat  must  you  expect  from 
your  enemies?  T  jj^rew  desperate  with  thrsc  forebod- 
iu!!^-  speculations,  and  in  my  desperation  resoKed  that 
a  Fabian  policy  or  masterly  inactivit}^  would  l)e  ruin- 
ous; I  must  up  and  be  doiny'.  I  would  adopt  a  pacific 
polic}'  in  rei^ai'd  to  the  internecine  unpleasantness;  cau- 
tiously approach  the  enemy  with  a  i\:\g;  of  truce,  and 
amicably  adjust  the  dilliculty.  Acting  promptly,  I 
took  that  obnoxious  note  from  my  pocket,  opened  it  as 
wide  as  I  could,  and  holding  it  aloft  as  my  white  flag, 
I  began  to  execute  the  movement. 

One  or  two  steps  in  the  hall  con\inced  me  that  my 
desperate  resolution  had  not  reached  my  knees,  for 
they  were  manifestly  shaky.  No  retreat,  though  ;  for- 
ward, Johnny.  So  I  threw  all  the  muscular  vigor  I 
could  command  into  the  next  step,  and — set  my  foot 
through  about  three  or  four  coils  of  that  detestable  bell- 
wire,  that  the  excited  pull  of  Mr.  Flannagan  had  jerked 
to  the  middle  of  the  hall,  where  it  had  disposed  itself, 
serpent-like,  in  anaconda  coils,  to  entrap  the  unsuspect- 
ing victim.  To  extricate  my  foot,  I  was  stooping  for- 
ward, when  the  anaconda  sutldenly  tightened  his  fatiil 
folds,  and — there  was  a  booming  thud — grand  meteoric 
display — a  scream  from  the  rear  hall — a  hello!  Smith! 
What's  up?  You  hurt? — from  the  front.  In  rushed 
my  wife  one  way,  and  my  old  democratic  friend, 
Honore,  the  other.  The  latter  had  evidentl}'  taken 
hold  of  the  knob  end  of  the  l>ell-wire  just  as  I  was  try- 


y6  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

in<^  to  get  my  foot  out  of  the  coils  of  the  other  end, 
and  giving  it  a  vigorous  jerk  (he  always  did  everything 
with  all  his  might)  it  suddenly  broke  the  last  fastening, 
and  all  that  saved  him  a  serious  fall  in  front,  was  the 
fact  that  I  was  on  the  other  end  of  the  abominable 
wire  to  balance.  T  lost  the  balance,  though  I  was  up 
before  the}-  could  offer  an}-  assistance,  feeling,  and  I 
guess  looking,  rather  dazed,  for  the  fall  stunned  me, 
as  my  forehead  struck  the  floor  first.  Honore  gave 
me  a  painful  look;  he  was  distressed;  my  wife  was 
distressed,  and— so  was  John  Smith,  sorely  distressed. 
My  wife  said : 

"Mr.  Smith,  you'd  better  go  to  bed." 

"Perhaps  vou  would  feel  better  atter  a  little  sleep," 
I'emarked  Mr.  Ilonore. 

This,  I  mental! \  resented,  as  a  delicate  intimation 
that  I  was  still  under  the  influence  of  liquor;  I  asked 
my  wife  to  let  me.  have  a  few  moments  undisturbed 
conversation  with  Mr.  Ilonore;  to  which  she  reluct- 
antly assented. 

We  went  int(j  the  parlor  and  closctl  the  door,  when 
Mr.  Honore  opened  the  conversation  thus: 

"Friend  John,  Fin  afraid  m\  e.\[)eriment  will  be  too 
haid  on  you;  that  is,  it  will  come  too  near  using  an 
honest  man  up,  to  run  him,e\en  once,  for  office,  in  the 
shortest  campaign  \  (ui  can  gel  up.  ^'ou  arc  too  can- 
did; too  honest;  and  what  distiiialiilcs  you  thi-  most,  is 
your  extreme  sensitiveness." 

I  knew  the  last  dis<iualification  I  possessed  to  an 
eminent  degr^-c — about  the  others,  let  those  who  ha\e 
had  an)   political  experience,  judge. 


THE    QlIIKT    SAI!I!A'1U    CONTINUKI).  77 

I  told  Mr.  Honorc  that  I  knew  from  m\-  lirief  (it 
secnicd  an  ajjc)  experience,  that  pohtics  was  not  m\- 
forte;  that  I  had  ahead\  written  a  card  of  withchawal, 
to  take  effect  earlv  on  the  follovviiii;"  nioniini^;  and  re- 
quested liini  to  please  hand  it  to  the  editor  of  our  paper, 
with  instructions  to  have  it  out  1)\-  daNliij^ht,  in  an 
extra,  and  to  send  in  the  hill  at  10  o'clock  for  settle- 
ment. I  further  stated  that  I  disliked  to  trouhle  him 
on  Sunday,  hut  desperate  diseases  required  desperate 
remedies;  also,  proin|Dt  action  was  necessary  for  the 
benefit  of  the  party,  and  delav  was  more  than  I  could 
stand;  for  I  verily  believed  if  I  didiTt  get  relieved 
from  the  harrassing  responsibilities  of  that  detestable 
campaign,  by  daylight  A.  m.,  T  should  have  to  l)e  sent 
to  the  mad-house,  if  I  didn't  commit  suicide  in  the 
meantime.      Why,  Mr.  Ilonore,  I  continued, 

"I  was  nominated  only  last  night,  and  I  feel  like  I 
deserved  the  penitentiary  this  morning.  Every  time 
I  approach  that  front  door- 1  fear  the  entrance  of  an 
officer,  with  handcuffs.  I  have  l)een  charged  with 
drunkenness,  inciting  riot,  committing  assault  and  bat- 
tery, and  the  Lord  only  knows  how  many  other  crimes, 
till  1  fce/Ukc  T  ought  to  be  a  criminal;  and  now  tell  me 
candidly,  how  do  my  /oo^s  correspond  with  my  feel- 
ings?." 

"^'ou  ask  me  to  tell  }ou  candidl),"  replied  he,  "and 
I  will.  I  must  say  if  you  were  ariaigned  on  any  or  all 
these  charges,  ycnir  only  safe  plea  would  l)e,  "previous 
good  character,"  because  your  looks,  just  now,  would 
be  ecpiivalent  to  confession  in  open  court  of  your 
guilt." 

I  thought  as  much;  for  I  had  been  afraid  to  look 
in  a  glass. 


78  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Don't  be  discou raged  though,"  continued  he,  "for  I 
want  you  to  run.  I  will  make  all  this  right  by  morn- 
ing; and  as  a  friend,  I  ask  you  to  reconsider  your  with- 
drawal. I  am,  to  a  great  extent,  responsible  for  your 
nomination.  I  wanted  this  time,  and  will  have  a  good 
man,  or  none.  I  know  our  cnvn  paity  does  not  be- 
lieve, with  any  candidate,  they  can  succeed;  that  the}' 
say  you  are  not  available,  as  they  call  it;  which  means 
you  must  be  every  bod  v's  dog,  to  be  patted  or  pelted. 
Don't  do  anything — but  I  needn't  tell  you  that — I  was 
going  to  say,  that  involves  the  semblance  of  a  compro- 
mise of  honor,  self-respect,  or  refined  sensibilities. 
Now,  friend  John,  for  my  sake,  if  not  your  own  inter- 
est in  the  success  of  the  j^artv,  make  the  race." 

"And  sacrifice  myself?" 

"I'll  stand  by  you  and  guarantee  victory,"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

"Mr.  Honore,"  I  replied,  "you  have  been,  you  are 
now,  and  I  hope  you  always  will  be  my  best  friend. 
A  friend  whose  advice  I  would  follow;  whose  requests 
I  would  grant  quicker  than  those  of  any  living  man; 
but  I  can't  stand  these  vexatious  charges  and  maintain 
my  self- respect.  Therefore,  if  I  must  sacrifice  my 
manhood  for  the  ofilce,  you  know  my  choice;  or  again, 
if  I  must  slur  over  mv  conscientious  line  of  dcmarka- 
tion  between  right  Aud  wrong,  then  give  the  petty  of- 
fice to  some  pliant,  ensy-\  irtued  simpleton." 

"Hold;  mv  iVieiid  John;"  he  cried,  "right  there  where 
tlie  intimation  is,  that  1  would  ask  \()ii  to  do  wrong. 
You  know  I  don'l  mean  it,  and  \()U  sliould  not  tiiink 
so." 

"I  doiTt  mean  to  sa\   tliat  yo/f  want  me  to  di)  wrong. 


THE    QUIET    SABHATll    CONTINUED.  79 

said   I,  youk  now,  though,  how  a  strong  jiartisan  will 
overlook  things." 

"The  things  that  shock  you  so  now,"  he  replied, 
you'll  come  to  look  on  as  petty  after  awhiie," 

This  was  quite  true.  I  have  witnessed  much  heavier 
transactions  since,  hut  I  knew  the  operators  hegan  on 
a  small  scale  at  first,  and  gradually  extended  their  busi- 
ness. I  told  him  at  that  time,  and  have  thought,  from 
subsequent  observation,  how  truthfullv,  that  there  was 
where  the  mistake  was  made  in  social,  political  and 
religious  morals — the  first  peccadillos. 

"John,  you  are  right  as  usual,"  he  answered,  "and 
if  I  didn't  know  the  current  of  your  moral  nature  was 
too  strong  and  deep  to  be  swerved  by  petty  obstacles, 
then  I  would  not  say  another  word,  excej^t  decline;  for 
I  know  it  is  not  only  dangerous,  but  too  often  fatal,  to 
subject  weak,  pliant  and  partiallv  rotten  material  to 
such  strains.  You  are  not  made  of  such  material,  and 
we  are  sorely  in  need,  just  now,  of  the  opposite  kind; 
therefore,  we  must  use  you;  you  must  run  this  time." 

I  told  him  I  would  stud\-  the  matter  over,  and  give 
him  an  answer  by  six  a.  m. 

"It  must  be  six  p.  m.  this  day,"  he  said,  "and  now  I 
must  go.  I  did  not  come  to  discuss  politics,  but  to  see 
if  you  were  as  badly  used  up  as  Black  man  was  re- 
porting." 

1  told  Mr.  Ilonore  I  had  learned  what,  or  a  part  of 
what  Blackmail  had  said — told  him  of  Blackman's  and 
vSleek's  carl}-  call,  and    what  transpired;    also   how   I 
spurned   Blackman's  proposition  and  aid,  and  loanetl 
Sleek  money  to  pay  his  preacher. 

"Ila!  Ha!  You  did?  That  was  a  good  act,  but 
can't  say  so  much  of  the  loan,"  he  replied. 


So  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

Here  the  hall  door  opened  suddenly;  some  one,  I 
thought  the  milk  boy,  came  in  unceremoniously; 
walked  down  the  hall  half  way, then  returning  knocked 
lightly  at  the  parlor  door. 

"Come  in,"  I  called. 

In  stepped  another  boy.  He  looked  rather  timid, 
or  confused;  refused  a  scat,  and  awkwardly  fumbling 
in  his  pockets,  drew  out  a  crumpled  paper,  which  he 
replaced  hurriedly,  and  took  from  another  pocket  a 
folded  note.  This  he  handed  me.  There  was  no  su- 
perscription, so  I  opened  it  and  read: 

"Dr.  John  Smith: 

I  am  sick  a  bed  for  two  or  throe  days  past.  I  thort  to 
change  my  doctor  and  I  Iiav  been  employin'  of  Dr.  Swcttam 
and  doant  do  me  a  might  of  good  he  has  got  ail  my  money 
and  left  mc  to  starve  •■with  no  vittuls  nor  nothin'  to  eat  these  2 
or  3  days  wood  yon  come  down   tomorrrer  and  see  me? 

Yours  truly, 

WILLIAM  ARNDUL. 

P.  S.  doctor  wood  vou  be  so  kind  as  to  lend  me  a  sTnall 
might  of  munnv  twel  I  am  able  to  git  round  agin.' 

W.  A." 

I  gave  this  boy  about  all  the  moncv  I  had  left  in  my 
pockets,  something  less  than  two  dollars,  in  small 
change;  told  him  to  tell  Mr.  Aindul  1  would  call  next 
day,  and  see  him.  The  lad  seemed  agreeably  sm- 
prised  at  (he  reception  of  the  money,  and  hurried 
away. 

"Friend  jnhii,''  lemarked  llonore,  ''1  fear  you  are 
being  victimized.  Was  that  a  charitable  contribution? 
A  ((.nnneriial  loan?  A  political  loan,  which  is  repaid 
if  tile  borrower  caiTt   help  it,   e.  g.  yours   to   Sleek  this 


THE    QUIET    SAliliA'ni    CONTINUED.  Si 

morning;  or  lastly,  is  it  the  fust   installment  on  ;i  j^ro- 
gressive  contract?" 

"You  ask  too  many  questions  at  once,"  I  replied, 
"about  this  small  sum  L  just  gave  the  hoy;  tho'  asked 
as  a  loan,  I  regard  as  a  charitable  contribution  to  a  sick 
and  destitute  man,  deserted  by  his  heartless  doctor. 
Whether  the  man  is  deserving  or  not,  I  can't  say,  all 
I  wish  to  know  is,  that  he  is  in  need  of  help.  You 
and  1  aie  too  much  alike  on  this  subject  to  dispute. 
Neither  of  us  like  extra-disci  iminating  charity.  That 
is  only  true  charity  that  is  blind  to  every  thing  save 
the  necessities  of  all  sentient  beings.  About  Mr. 
Sleek's  loan;  he  can  hardly  have  the  knavish  afTrontry 
to  swindle  me  in  that  cold-blooded,  hypocritical  way. 
How  about  your  progressive  contract?  What  does 
it  mean  ?" 

"Til  tell  you  John,''  he  said,  "as  well  as  I  can  explain 
it.  You  ha\c  done,  when  \()u  were  a  small  school 
boy,  those  examples  in  arithmetical  jirogression,  where 
the  blacksmith  shoes  a  horse  for  a  penny  for  the  first 
nail,  the  money  doubled  on  each  succeeding  nail;  or 
where,  the  simj)le  minded  farmer  agreed  to  pay  his 
hand  one  grain  of  wheat  a  day,  and  double  every  day 
throughout  the  year.  The  results  are  astonishing,  yet 
there  are  examples  of  that  same  kind,  not  arithmetical, 
that  are  far  more  astonishing  in  results  than  the  old 
familiar  mathematical  ones.  .Some  of  the  most  start- 
ling examjjles  ol  the  [progressive  contract  are  found  in 
politics." 

"But  what  do  ycni  mean  b\  paying  the  first  install- 
ment on  a  progressive  contract?"    I  insisted. 

"Just  this,"  he  answered,  "when   you  make  one,  and 

make  the  iirst  payment,  you  rarely  kiunv  yourself  that 
—  1 1 


82  JOHN    SMITH,  DEAIOCRAT. 

vou  have  such  a  contract,  or  have  made  aii\  pa\ment 
on  it.  Your  e^^es  are  progressively  opened  to  the  fact, 
while  vour  pockets,  at  a  uniformly  accelerated  ratio, 
are  depleted  hv  virtue  of  the  contract.  Let  us  take, 
for  illustration,  the  progressive  political  contract.  It 
is  generalh'  made  thus;  a  political  dead-l)eat,  or  hum- 
mer, having  a  nuncupative  influence  with  a  questiona- 
hle  class  of  voters,  approaches  the  innocent  candidate, 
and  very  conHdentialK  tells  him  tliat  he  (tlie  hummer) 
knows  just  where,  and  exactl\  how,  to  secure  several 
votes,  provided  he  had  a  little  change  to  treat  the  hoys, 
you  know.  The  candidate,  thinking,  in  the  extreme 
verdancy  of  his  unsophisticated  soul,  that  this  is  the 
th-st  and  last  of  it,  readih  ,  and  even  gratefully,  hands 
the  hummer  a  certain  sinn  ol'  money,  varied  according 
to  circumstances  and  al)ilit\  .  Let  us  sa\'  $5  for  the 
average,  for  the  range  in  grade  f)f  these  hummers  is 
wonderful,  running  iVom  tweii(v-li\e  cents  to  $100,000. 
You  pav  voui  lirst  installment  of  $5  gratefully;  next 
dav,  or  week,  as  the  case  may  Iv,  pay  the  second  in- 
stallment of  $10,  with  diminished  gratitude;  the  third 
payment  of  $20  is  made  sa//s  gratitude;  the  fourth  of 
$40,  with  suppressed  ill-feeling;  the  tifth  of  $80,  with 
manifest  displeasure;  tiie  sixtli,  and  probahly  last,  of 
$160,  is  likch  not  paid,  and  leads  to  open  rujiturc 
between  the  contiacting  pailics.  This  rupture  is  fore- 
seen, and  its  time  and  |)laci.-  adroitK'  selected  h\  the 
skilhul  operator,  ioi'  lliis  is  his  best  stroke.  lie  gets 
you  near  a  groii|i  of  \iiiir  pohtical  opponents,  and 
makes  \\k-  <kinaii(l  f^i  the  final  installment,  which, 
being  r(.])ii(liatt(l,  he  states  that  you  aie  too  stingy  to 
be  elect c< I,  and  1  !■  \^)\^  iiiink  iii'i's  cjoinc  10  liK 
BOUGHT  (verN     loud)  with   any  small    sum  (sotto  voce) 


TUK    (^(IIKT    SAUKATIl    COXTI N  l' KI).  S3 

YOU  AKKMrSTAKKN  {  fo)'t  i si  )llu).  Now,  J  ol  111,  \  ()U  SCC 
lli;it  thfskilirul  liiiiniiu'i"  has  m;maL',<.il,  at  the  iK'gin- 
iiiiiL;-  of  this  |)r<)grcssivc  c()iilrai.t,  lo  work  mi  \()iir 
gratitude;  intcrinccUately,  on  youi"  ciiduiance  ot  iiiij)()- 
sition,  and  histly,  on  yoiii"  ajiprchcnsion.  '^'ou  can  see 
that,  in  the  last  interview,  lie  has  managed  to  convey 
the  impression  to  the  l)ystanders  ihat  \  on  have  just  de- 
HherateK'  made  a  proposition  to  l)uy  him,  while,  at  the 
same  liiiu',  he  has  impressed  \-ou  with  the  necessitv  of 
the  purchase.  So  \()u  have  eithei'  <;()t  to  hu\-,  or  not. 
If  \  t)u  hu\,  you  must  comply  with  llie  terms  ol'  the 
contract,  and  he  tleeced  umiiei"cirull\  to  tlie  last  hour 
of  the  campaign,  and  durin;^-,  and  even  after  the  elec- 
tion; for  ihe  ihorou^hi^oinL;-,  scientific  hummer  is  like 
the  hoise-leech,  he'll  hleed  } on  as  long  as  there  is  a 
drop  left.  He'll  come  after  the  election  and  arroganth 
demand  the  hest  place  in  the  gift  of  his  \ictim,  and 
threaten  to  exjiosc  him  if  he  don't  comply.  Ves,  he'll 
demand  the  next  hest  place  for  a  friend.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  you  refuse,  at  any  time  during  the  progress 
of  the  progressive  contract,  to  carry  out  its  provisions 
in  good  (?)  faith,  then  ye  virtuously  indignant  hummer 
straightway  denoTuices  you  as  a  fraud,  a  hargain-and- 
corruptionist.  In  this  ahuse  he's  encouraged  by  your 
opponent  (if  he  is  a  mean  man),  w  h<j  enters  into  the 
same  sort  of  progressive  contract,  and  is  bled  to  a  greater 
extent;  for  although  the  campaign  is  shorter,  the  bum- 
mer's demands  must  be  correspondingly  greater;  for 
"ain't  it  a  progressive  contract  ?"  The  worst  feature 
of  this  progressive  contract  political,  is  this:  the  oppo- 
sing candidate  who  undertakes  to  carr\-  out  this  ar- 
rangement, is  either  mean  and  sharp,  or  mean  and  dull; 
mean  any  wa\  ;  mean  all  the  time." 


84  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"What  do  you  mean  l)y  that?"  I  asked. 

"If  he's  mean  and  sharp,  he's  willing  to  pay  enor- 
mously to  have  you  unjustly  abused.  Because  he 
knows  the  liumnurs  insincerity.  Knows  his  motive, 
and  furnishes  it  with  mone\ .  If  he  is  mean  and  dull,  he 
thinks,  poor  fool,  he's  found  a  true  political  friend,  who 
openly  denounces  you;  did  it  before  he  asked  pecuni- 
ary aid;  must  be  sincere  and  efficient,  because  he  wants 
to  do  all  in  his  power  to  defeat  n  on.  So  the  mean 
ilull  man  fills  out  his  contract  at  a  large  figure,  to  have 
the  bummer  go  on  in  his  abusive  course.  A  sharp 
good  man  would  not  onl\  not  pay  such  a  price,  but  no 
price  at  all,  to  ha\e  \ on  unjustly  villified.  A  dull 
good  man  might  not  object  to  the  abuse,  because  he 
would  not  be  wise  enough  to  see  the  injustice  of  it, 
yet  he  could  not  be  so  silly  as  not  to  know  that  it  is 
wrong  and  unlawful  to  pay  men  money  for  election- 
eering purposes.  Ergo;  il  is  mean,  it's  criminal  for  a 
political  opponent  to  finish  one  ot'  ihose  contemptible 
progressive  contracts." 

"Why  do  vou  tell  uie  about  these  bummers?'"  I 
enquired.     "Do  you  think  I  can  be  swindled  by  them?" 

"I  don't  know,  b>hn,"  he  answered.  "The  sharpest 
men  are  wittingK  or  iiinvitlingK  imposed  upon  by 
them." 

"If  1   run  rU  watch  them,"  I    added. 

"\'oii  must  excuse  me  vouistllV'  he  coiilinued,  "and 
apologize  for  me  to  \()ur  wile,  for  such  a  \  isit,  at  such 
a  time,  on  such  inisiiiess." 

Mr.  llonore  aiose  to  fake  Ua\e  when,  it  occurred  to 
me  to  ask  him : 

"Wlio  was  that  1m)\    that   interrupted  us?" 


rill':    (il'IKT    SAMKATll    tON'I'IXUKI).  S^ 

"John,''''  he  i"ej:)Hc(l,  'Sou  should  li;i\c'  known  liini  h\ 
liis  car  marks.'''' 

"What  marks?''' 

"Di(hrt  \()U  notice  lu-  liad  on  liis  clothes,  face  and 
hands  some  iiik\  stainsr"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  hut  what  oi"  llie  stains?" 

"The\  show  he's  the  devil;  an  odd  da\'  for  such  a 
visitor!  I  mean  lie's  the  tlevil  of  the  Repul)lican  of- 
fice. Let  mC'  see  the  note  he  hrouj^ht,"  continued 
Ilonore.     "^'ou'll  ha\e  to  watch  these  fellows." 

"The  note!  J"l-wrai)|)ed  the  small  change  in  it 
and  gave  it  back  to  the  l)o\ ,"  1  continued. 

"You  did?"    lie  ([neiied,  concernedl  \  . 

"Yes,  what  of  it?" 

"Mayhc  nothing,"  he  replii'd.  "Tho'  T  advise  \()U 
to  keep  all  original  communications  lor  future  refer- 
ence, or  use.  You  may  soreh  need  some  doi'ument 
of  that  kind,  hereafter,  to  which  \'ou  attach  no  \alue 
or  importance  now.  This  is  husiuess  in  politics  as 
well  as  commerce." 

"1  guess  the  l)oy  will  take  it  hack  to  the  sick  man, 
just  as  I  gave  it  to  him."  1  rejoined.  1  then  told 
Honore  the  contents  of  the   note. 

He  smded,  and  lemarked: 

"There's  a  iisliy  odor  ahout  it,  John,  hut  ma\  he 
nothing  at  last.  ^'et,  keep  hoth  t\es  aiul  ears  open, 
and  also  don't  forget  to  keep  all  such  papeis.  Good 
morning.  Send  notice  of  \our  consent  to  run  this  p. 
m.,  if  you  please." 

lie  went  away.  He  was  a  good  man,  an  intelligent 
man.  It  was  surprising  how  much  he  could  accom- 
plish ilia  \eiy  short  time.       As  i'hillipssaid  of  Napo- 


86  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

leon  Buonaparte,  you  could  truly  say  of  him,  he  had 
an  "energy  that  distanced  expedition."  He  never  tem- 
porized, or  compromised  with  wronj;^.  It"  it  didn't 
come  right  promptly,  he  compelled  it  by  his  (to  me 
then)  unaccountable  power.  All  his  eft'oits  were  ad- 
mirably herculean,  and  eminently  successful.  Alas! 
Alas!  Not  a  half  score  of  years  .  have  gone  since 
then;  he  has  gone  with  the  years,  awd  left  no  discern- 
able  vestige  of  his  influence  behind.  He  must  have 
liad  cotemporar\'  co-workers  all  over  the  political 
vyorld.  Where  are  the  fruits  of  the  lal)ors  of  this 
noble  l)an(1  ?  An  echo  trom  the  hollow  world  mcjck- 
inglv  answers:  Where.''  In  tiiat  short  interval  ol" 
time,  I  have  lived  to  see,  not  onl\  the  god-like  efforls 
of  such  heroes  come  to  naugiit,  but  man\',  aye,  too 
man\  of  the  men  themselves,  fall;  fall  like  Lucifer,  to 
rise  no  more.  We  have  onl\  to  look  around  us  to  see, 
to-vlay,  such  noble  men,  when  once  embaiked  on  a 
political  sea,  risk,  with  perfect  conlldence  in  their  \ir- 
tue,  the  outer  feeblest  circle  of  the  maelstrom  of  cor- 
ruption; thinking,  when  they  have  made  this  one  nnmd, 
the^■  can  easih'  e\ti"icate  themselves,  and  spread  their 
sails  tor  a  straight  course  on  a  level  sea.  Oh!  what  a 
terrible  mistake  is  this  risk,  of  the  outer  feeblest  cir- 
cle. The  proxt'rbial  lirst  glass  of  llu'  drunkard  is 
safety  in  comparison;  lor  the  ruined  xiclini  ol"  tlu' 
bowl  Ikis  litlli'  or  nolhiiig  to  do  with  tlu-  tVaming  and 
the  executing  of  oui  laws,  wbitli  ha\i'  bi't-ome,  instead 
ol  the  machinerN'  ol  justirt-,  a  lab\  riiitli  wherein  ciim- 
inals  iiia\  hidi-  with  impunitN.  A  glanci'  now  oyer 
our  political  sea,  show  s  its  whole  e\|)ansi'  ;i  \  ast  whirl- 
pool, with  t  he  \  rnt  iirons  barL-.,  I  jigc  and  small,  dot  ting 
llir     liiiuirl  shaped     snrlace    of    llic    dest  i  iiitl\  c     whirl. 


H 


THE    QUIE'l'    SAHHAIII    CONTINUED.  87 

from  the  outer  feeblest  circle,  t(j  the  eiigulfiii*^  vortex 
of  eorniplion. 

A.— "John,  when  we  were  boys,  iiiul  studied  geog- 
raph\,  we  were  filled  witli  wonder  when  we  gazed 
on  the  few  concentric  circles,  that  marked  the  great 
maelstrom,  on  the  Norwegian  coast.  We  then  read 
with  bated  breath  and  intense  awe  of  the  insatiate 
maw  of  this  mammoth  sucker-in  of  whole  fleets. 
The  world  then  took  the  same  des])erate  view.  Explor- 
ation and  time  have  proven  il  am\th;  di\ested  it  of  its 
terrors,  and  f)und  it  to  Ik-  nothing  more  than  a  de- 
flection of  the  N.  E.  l)raiich  of  the  Gulf  stream,  by 
the  cold  alirupt  check  it  gets  on  the  rugged  coast  of 
Norway  from  cooler  counter  currents.  When  we 
have  more  time,  and  explore  more  thoroughly  your 
whiiipf)(>l  of  corruption,  ma}be  it  may  prove  to  be  a 
deflection,  of  a  comparatively  small  stream  of  immor- 
ality, highh  heated  with  human  passions.  When  it 
is  forced  into  the  lirt)ad  and  cooler  depths  of  the  po- 
litical ocean,  it  will  l)e  chilled  to  a  chaste  tempera- 
ture. Then  our  serious  view  of  this  moral  whirl- 
pool, like  oiu-  l)o\  ish  idea  of  the  great  physical  bug- 
bear, will  l)e  changed  from  one  of  awful  contempla- 
tion to  one  of  hopeful  rejoicing,  that  we  were  mis- 
taken, deluded,  misinformed.''' 

"I  do  ho23e  you  are   right." 

A. — "More  do   I.      Tm   sleeps ,  let's  quit  till  tomor- 
row night." 

Amen. 


SS  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 


NIGHT  VI. 

A    VERY    QUIET    SABBATH. 


Ill  the  last  chapter  I  skipped,  after  INIr.  Honorc  letl., 
all  the  recollections  of  the  canvass,  and  came  scpiare 
up  to  the  present  day.  I  must  go  hack  and  pick  up 
the  hroken  thread.  I  was  yet  in  the  parlor;  it  was 
only  ten  o'clock  on  that  interminahle  Sunday.  I  was 
thinking  of  the  advice  Mr.  Ilonore  gave  me  concerning 
dead-beats,  Innnmers,  progressive  contracts,  and  the 
preservation  of  original  papers.  1  didn't  see  there 
could  anv  harm  grow  out  of  tlie  note,  1  gave  hack  to 
the  boy,  with  the  money  wrapped  in  it.  I  supposed  it 
would  redound  to  my  benefit,  rather  than  injury,  if  it 
were  shown.  So  far,  I  had  received  but  two  notes,  and 
m\  wife  had  the  other;  so  I  was  safe  enough  on  origi- 
nal communications.  The  binnp  on  my  iorchead 
pained  me;  1  could  feci  thai  il  was  growing.  My  nose 
also  needed  some  atlciilion;  nor  liad  1  shaved.  As  I 
had  (piite  determined  (just  to  please  Honorc, you  know) 
to  I  nil  for  the  otbce  of  Lord  High  Mayor  of  the  city  of 
ISuiikunn  ilK'  m\  physical  damages  must  he  repaired, 
and  m\  personal  appeai'ance  great  1\  impro\cd  by  the 
next  da\.  Now  diUcrcnl  wcic  my  feelings!  An  hour 
ago  I  fi'lt  liUi-  a  felon;  imprisoned  in  iii\  own  house; 
entniies  in  fronl  ;  encmit's  on  cilluT  Hank;  and  I  wimt 
sa}'  a  dreatlful  enemy      l>nl    a   dreaded    unpleasantness 


A    VERY    (iiriKT    SAHIJATII.  89 

in  the  rear.  Behold,  honest  John  .Smith  was  "himself 
again!"  Mr.  Honore  would  rout  the  front  and  flank 
assailants,  and  that  note,  hless  it,  hatl,  ere  this,  pacified 
the  domestic  foe. 

Full  of  the  pride  of  vindicated  innocence,  I  marched 
boldly  into  the  presence  of  m}'  humillatetl  

Whe-ew!  Not  much  humiliation,  nor  amelioration, 
nor  pacification,  nor  any  other  than  an  unmentionable 
ation,  in  that  countenance.  The  look  she  gave  me  put 
to  rout  all  my  manl\-  purposes  instanter,  and  it  was  so 
sharp  that  I  could  only  think  of  shaving.  With  a 
feeble  effort  at  dignified  indiirerence,  I  asked: 

"Mollie,  dear,  is  there  any  hot  water?" 

"Yes,  dear  Johnny,  there's  ^ilenty  forj'ow,"  she  an- 
swered. 

I  didn't  like  the  emphatic  'you,'  hut  continued,  "Well, 
deary,  let's  have  it;  I  want  to  shave  and  fix  up.  I  have 
concluded,  after  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Honore,  to 
run." 

"Run?  I  would,"  she  said,  "I  think  you  had  better 
start  now,  and  run  till  you  get  out  of  the  State." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?  .Still  mad  about  that 
Gay  note?  Uon't  it  explain  itself?  You've  read  it, 
haven't  you?" 

"Read  it!  read  it,  havn't  you,"  echoed  she;  and 
thrusting  a  folded  slip  of  paper,  rather  spitefully,  to- 
wards me,  asketl  scornfully,  "Have  }'ou  read  that? 
That's  hot  water  enough  to  sha\e  you,  Johnny." 

1  opened  the  slip  and  read — 

"Johnny,  come  this   r.  m.  Susie.  ' 

"Only  this,  and  nothing  more." 
— 12 


90  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"Where  did  you  get  this,  Mrs.  Smith?" 
"Where  did  /get  it?  That's  a  nice  question  for  you 
to  ask,  she  repHed ;  "I  suppose  it  came  from  another 
scion  of  some  other  illusti'ious  house,  and  relates,  of 
course,  to  the  everhisting  nomination.  Pray,  when  did 
Susie  nominate  you,  Johnny?  Was  it  at  the  demo- 
cratic convention,  the  beer-hall  convention,  or  a  cotifi- 
dcntlal  convention  held  hv   you  and  Susie?" 

This  ivas  hot  water,  and  getting  too  hot  to  endure. 
So  was  I;  and  asked  rather  angrily — 

"Where  did  you  get  this  piece  of  pajDcr,  Mrs.  Smith? 
Please  be  so  kind  as  to  answer  my  question." 

"I  found  it  in  the  hall,"  she  answered,  "where  nou 
tumbled  down  and  droj^ped  it;  and  you  can't  deny  it," 

"I  do  deny  it,  most  emphatically;  and  will  take  an 
oath  that  I  never  saw  it  till  you  hand«d  it  to  me." 

I  saw  her  waver  when  I  spoke  of  the  oath,  for  she 
never  doubted  my  truthfulness — till  I  got  that  "ever- 
lasting" nomination. 

She  rallied  with  the  question: 

"Then  vou  sav  you  didn't  have  that  note? — no  note 
in  your  hand  when  you  fell  down?" 

"No.  I  did  1ki\c  the  note  I  got  from  Mr.  Gay  in 
my  hand;  it  was  ojien;  a  much  larger  paper  than  this; 
I  was  bringing  it  to  \()ii  to  read,  when  Mr.  Ilonore 
tripped  me  with  the  bell- wire.  The  note  must  have 
fallen  on  the  iloor,  and,  of  course,  you  got  it,  and 
read  it." 

"Of  course  I  did  no  such  thing,"  she  replied. 

I  again  l\lt  in  all  of  in\  poikets;  but  the  note  was 
not  f<nnid.      I  did  not  icmembei' having  it  alter  the  fall, 


A    VERY    QUIET    SABBATH.  9I 

or  sccinj^  it;  but  supposed,  l)c\()n(l  ilouljt,  Mrs.  Smith 
had  picked  it  up  l)cf(M-c  she  left  the  hall. 

"You  dichrt  mean  that  I  should  read  it,"  she  pout- 
ingly  said,  "and  you  didn't  mean  to  let  me  know  that 
Miss  Susie  — " 

"Thank  the  Lord!  The  blessed  old,  much-abused 
bell-wire  licj^an  to  dance  a  hornpipe,  with  a  longer 
range  than  heretofore,  on  the  hall  Hoor;  and  although 
I  am  opposed  to  taking  any  kind  of  notes  on  time,  I 
wanted  badlv  some  time  on  this  last  incomprehensible 
note.  As  I  started  promptl}'  (people  should  answer 
such  calls  pr(jmptlv)  to  ascertain  who  was  at  the  other 
end  of  the  wire,  m\-  wife  lired  a  }iarting  shot:— 

"If  you  get  any  returns,"  she  said,  aggravatingly, 
"from  Mollie,  or  Katie,  or  Sallie,  or" — the  rapid  clos- 
ing of  the  door  counted  out  the  other  precincts. 

In  m\-  haste  to  tiec  the  tire  in  the  rear,  I  forgot, 
and  if  I  hadn't,  I  would  have  been  reckless  of  my  di- 
lapidated nose;  as  also,  the  increased  size  and  varied  hues 
of  the  contusion  on  my  forehead;  for  the  bump  resem- 
bled the  half  of  a  large,  mottled,  mogul  plum;  while 
the  royal  purple  fringe  that  ornamented  my  magenta 
nose,  had  gradually  widened  outward  and  upward, 
till  it  reached  my  under  eye-lids,  giving  them  the  ap- 
pearance of  two  tiny,  dark,  dismantled  hulls,  anchored 
on  a  crimson  sea.  My  heart,  all  right,  gave  an  audible 
throb  when  I  opened  the  door  and  confronted  Elder 
Goldman,  our  village  apostle  of  temperance.  What 
on  earth  brought  him?  Wasn't  my  cup  of  misery 
running  over  without  this  deluge?  I  stammered,  for 
I  could  not,  with  the  recollection  of  the  one  fearful 
glance  I  had  given  the  mirror,  speak  like  a  man: 


92  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Wa-walk  in." 

He  did,  with  frigid  dignity;  eyeing  me  with  a  you- 
are-a-guilty-wretch  look  that  did  not  at  all  increase  my 
self-possession.  "Be  se-seated,  M-Mr.  Goldman,"  I 
remarked,  with  that  manner  and  apparently,  yet  worse 
than  conscionsly  guilty  accent  and  tone  that  mislead 
so  many  detectiyes. 

He  gaye  me  a  condescending  how,  and  still  with  his 
leaden  eyes  fixed  on  my  face,  in  a  far  oif,  harp-of-a- 
thousand-strings  enunciation,  said : 

"Me-ister  Sme-ith,  I  ca-alled  the-is  Sah-ha-day  me- 
orning  to  as-certain  ah,  ihc  status  quo  of  ye-our  te-em- 
perance  per-inciples  ah,  ahem,  ah." 

Here  he  stopped  short;  gazing  fixedly  at  my  face, 
and  taking  license  (though  he  was  opposed  to  license) 
therefrom,  to  address  me  as  a  common  drunkard,  he 
continued: 

"He-ow  long  ah,  Me-ister  vSme-ith  ah,  is  it  se-ince 
ye-ou  ha-aye  fe-allen  ah,  into  the  tc-oils  of  tlx"  te- 
cmptah  ah?     I  was  not  aware  ah  the-at — " 

I  could  not  endure  this  contemptihle  twaddle  a  mo- 
ment longer,  although  1  knew  I  was  getting  redder  in 
the  face,  and  thus  increasing  the  weight,  or  rendering 
cumulatiye,  as  the  lawyers  say,  the  only  evidence  this 
miserable  galoot  had  of  my  intemperance;  so  I  blurted 
out: 

"Mr.  Goldman,  if  \()u  come  here,  in  my  own  house 
to  insult  me,  we  will  ti  rminate  this  interview,  without 
another  word;  and  you  will  greatly  ol)lige  me  by 
never  calling  again;  unless  you  learn  to  judge  me,  not 
by  my  accidentally  bad  appearance  to-day,  but  by  my 
well  known  good  eoiKhut  all  the  tinu-,  lu-retofore." 

"I    ah,   l)t-g   i)a-ai(loii    ah,  Mc-istcT    Sme-ith  all,"   he 


A    VERY    QUIET    SABBATH.  93 

replied,  manifestly  disconcerted  at  the  incompatibility 
of  my  lan<^uage  with  my  facial  indications.  "I  ah,  me- 
erely  ca-alled,  Me-ister  Sme-ith  ah,  to  ascerte-ain  yu- 
ah  perrzishun  in  re-gawd  to  ah  the  ah  gal-o-rioiis  ke- 
ause  of  ah,  tem-prancc  ah." 

The  elder  ceased  speaking  drew  a  long  sighing  res- 
piration; interlocked  the  long  bony  fingers  of  his 
wrinkled,  parchment  hands  across  his  long,  thin,  con- 
sumptive chest;  gave  his  leaden  eyes  a  sanctimonious 
roll  toward  the  ceiling,  and  mused;  if  I  had  let  him, 
I  disturbed  his  pious  reverie  with  the  assertions,  that  I 
did  not  know  the  issues  of  the  canvass:  that  I  knew  I 
was  the  democratic  candidate  for  mavor;  was  a  tem- 
perance man;  and  if  elected,  didn't  propose,  oiiicially 
or  otherwise,  to  encourage  intemperance;  to  which  he 
replied : 

"Ya-es  ah;  but  Me-ister  Sme-ith  ah,  I  ha-ave  fou't 
ah,  the  he-idray  he-eaded  me-onster  all  me  le-ife  ah, 
and  Me-ister  Sme-ith,  I  can  ne-ever,  no  ne-ever  ah, 
ge-ive  me-y  suppe-ort  to  any  ca-andidate  ah,  tha-at 
we-ill  ne-ot  refuse  ah,  to  gre-ant  license  ah.  Can  I 
ca-arry  the  gul-ad.  te-idings  to  me-ey  me-any  fer-ends 
ah,  tha-at  ye-ou  are  oppo-sed  ah,  to  ger-ant-ing  licenses 
ah  ?" 

"Mr.  Goldman,  the  ma3'or's  duty  is  legally  defined. 
The  people,  through  the  council,  make  the  ordinances. 
If  I  am  elected  mayor  T  shall  discharge  the  duties 
of  the  office  faithfully.      This  is  all  I  can  promise." 

"The-en,  Me-ister  Sme-ith  ah,"  he  continued,  'Sc-ou 
air  ne-on-committal,  and  ah  1  ha-ave  resolv-ed  to  ne- 
ever,  no  nc-evcr  ah,  suppe-ort  any  ca-ande-dat  ah, 
the-at  we-ill  ne-ot  ke-ome  s{|e-arely  aout  ah,  agin  the 
ho-u-osts    of  sat-in    and    de-clai'c  ah,  for    the    Lud    ah. 


94  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

Ge-ood  me-orning,  Me-ister  Sme.ith  ah.  I  must  be 
ge-oing,  it's  abc-out  sc-arvice  te-inic  ah;  ge-ood  me- 
orning,  and  me-ay  me-y  He-evingly  Fe-ather  be-less 
ye-ou  ah,  and  ber-ing  ye-ou  ah,  te-oo  see  the  r-ight 
we-ay  ah — ge-ood  me-orning,  Me-ister  Sme-ith."  And 
the  great  temperance  reformer  (?)  walked  sanctifiedly 
away. 

Good  riddance.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  intemperance 
is  so  widespread  over  the  land,  when  such  reformers  as 
he  undertake  to  convert  the  world  from  drunkenness? 
Such  men  as  Goldman  are  naturally  repulsive  to  the 
usually  generous-hearted  man,  who,  of  all  others,  ac- 
cording to  the  worlds  experience,  is  the  probable  vic- 
tim of  intemperance.  How  can  such  long-faced,  cold- 
hearted  men  iniiuence  the  warm-hearted,  generous 
souls  who  are  the  sufferers?  They  can't  understand 
the  efforts  of  such  unsvmpathetic  people,  that  have  no 
Christian  charit\'  for  an\  l)od\'  but  themselves,  and  are 
the  worst  qualified  and  most  meddlesome  to  reform  their 
erring  fellow-men.  A  close  observer  of  the  temper- 
ance move,  from  the  Maine  Liquor  Law  down  to  the 
present  day,  must  have  seen  that  such  canting  hypo- 
crites have  done  far  more  harm  than  good.  It  is  not 
disjjutetl  that  ihev  are  in  earnest;  it  is  not  denied  that 
they  are  vigilant  and  industrious,  but  it  is  tiucstionable 
whether  or  not  we'd  ha\e  a  temperance  millennium  if 
they  were  retired  from  the  ranks  of  reformers,  as  cum- 
brous supernumeraries.  Tf  a  man  is  committing  bur- 
glary, arson,  murder,  or  any  other  crime,  it  is  natural 
for  him  to  resist,  if  roughly  assailed.  Why  don't  sen- 
sible tempeiancc  men  undi'rstand  this  palpal)lc  trait  of 
human  naturi-,  when  dc-ahng  with  the  (inestion.  Why 
do  ihey  stand  aloof,  and  throw  red-hot  shot  at  the  ine- 


A    VERY    QUIET    SARHATH  95 

hrialc  and  saloon-keeper?  Why  not  chaw  nearer  (they 
won't  hurt  yon)  to  them?  Why  not  treat  them  as 
fello\v-ht'inL;s;  not  as  criminals,  hnt  nnfortunate  and 
misguided  men,  in  social  and  hnsiness  relations?  Give 
them  to  nnderstand,  hy  word  and  deed,  that  you  do  not, 
pharisaically,  raise  an  impassahlc  barrier  between  your- 
selves and  them  ;  cutting-  them  oil'  from  all  sympathy,  on 
what  you  (so  do  they)  consider  the  right  side.  There 
are  man}'  noble-hearted  men  and  women  who  have 
vaulted  over  this  high  wall  and  slimy  ditch,  and  worked 
wonders;  did,  in  fiict,  all  the  good  that  ever  has  been 
effectually  done.  Had  they  adopted  the  long-faced, 
long-range  battery  plan  of  attack,  they  would  have 
succeeded  in  arousing  resentment;  nothing  more.  You 
see  I  was  tempted  to  kick  Mr.  Goldman  out  of  my 
house.  He  had  heard  that  I  was  drunk  the  night  be- 
fore; I  admit  I  took  too  much  beer;  but  this  was  acci- 
dental in  my  case.  Yet  Mr.  Goleman,  after  his  kind, 
must  come  at  the  most  inopportune  time,  and  in  the 
most  repulsive  manner,  to  essay  my  reformation.  He 
came  full  of  suspicion  of  all  kinds  of  evil,  and  was  run- 
ning over  with  all  manner  of  uncharitableness.  With 
what  he  had  heard,  and  the  sight  of  my  face — the  face 
Innocent;  and  the  hearsay,  grossly  exaggerated,  his 
fii'st  question  was,  "He-ow  le-ong  ah,"  (I  can't  repeat 
his  abominable  nasal  slang)  was  it  since  I  fell  into  the 
toils  of  the  tempter?  When  the  canting  old  hypocrite 
knew  me  as  a  temperance  man. 

A. — "Oh,  John,  the  temperance  harp  has  been  one 
often  thousand  thousand  strings,  and  all  the  strings 
have  been  worn  out  and  tied  so  often,  that  there  is  not 
a  musical  tone  left  in  one  of  them.  End  your  lecture, 
and  proceed  with  the  narrative." 


96  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

I  forgot  these  views  were  out  of  date;  as  you  would 
say  of  an  old  note,  outlawed.  Well,  to  resume;  after 
the  great  apostle  of  temperance  left,  I  sat  in  the  parlor, 
pretty  much  in  the  same  fix  I  was  hefore  Mr.  Honore 
cheered  me  up;  that  is,  rather  constrained.  My  wife's 
last  words,  "if  you  get  any  returns  from  Mollie,  Katie, 
etc.*"  were  still  ringing  in  my  ears.  I  was  wondering 
this  time  how  I  could  approach  the  domestic  foe;  I 
had  no  flag  of  truce,  no  nothing;  what  should  I  do? 
When  men  are  at  a  loss,  mentally,  as  to  what  to  do, 
they  grow  restless,  and  try  to  compensate  hy  a  little 
physical  exercise.  I  thought  I  would  examine  the 
hell-wire  and  see  how  much  damage  it  had  sustained. 
Thought,  if  it  wasn't  Suntlay,  I'd  take  it  out;  anyhow 
there  was  no  harm  in  just  coiling  it  up  around  my  arm 
nicely,  and  putting  it  up  close  to  the  door.  I  had  it  in 
my  fingers,  when  a  sharp  jerk  at  the  knoh  end  caused 
me  to  let  go  very  quickly — it  cut  one  of  my  fingers. 
I  was  glad,  though,  to  have  somebody  come,  because 
I  was  in  no  great  hurry  to  go  back  to  the  sitting-room. 
Opening  the  door,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bonham,  oin- preacher, 
that  is,  the  minister  of  my  wife's  church,  (I  belonged 
too,  but  wasn't  regular,  because,  during  the  war  some 
of  the  hottest  engagements  were  fought  in  that  little 
sanctuary,)  walked  in. 

"Good  morning,  brother  Smith." 

"Good  inoniiiig,  Mr.  Honhain;  come  in,  and  take  a 
seat." 

"All  quite  well  to-day,.!//-.  Smith  ?"  asked  he,drop- 
l)ing  the  brother,  when  he  had  a  fair  look  at  my  face. 

"Very  well,  thank  you,"  and  the  reverend  gentle- 
man looked  dubiously  at  my  lace  and  hand;  for  the 
cut    linger    was    bleeding    through    my    handkerchief, 


A     VKItV    CiUIKT    SAinJATH.  97 

which  I  had  hastily  wrapped  around  it.  He  came  in 
witli  the  mein  and  i^ait  of  a  man  heading  a  funeral 
procession.  I  didn't  feel  encouraged  yet;  although  I 
had  always  heard  that  pastoral  visits  were  for  the  pur- 
pose of  cheering  up  and  consoling  the  down-hearted 
and  disconsolate.  As  I  before  remarked,  I  didn't,  as 
yet,  feel  much  cheered  up,  nor  consoled,  to  any  great 
extent;  but  thought  there  was  a  silver  lining  to  this 
cloud  that  would  pan  out  satisfactoiily.  1  spoke  as 
hopefully,  as  blandly  as  possible,  and  asked  him  if  there 
was  anything  new. 

''Nothing  special — but"  (here  his  facial  expression 
said,  as  unmistakably  as  the  oral  could  have  said  to  me,, 
John  vSmith,  the  half  wasn't  told  me)  "but  I  learned 
you  were  nominated  for  the  office  of  mayor  last  eve- 
ning. I  presume  it  is  true,  is  it  not?"  Another  look 
that  said,  you  resemble  the  nominee  of  some  pot-house 
caucus. 

"Yes,  sir;  my  democratic  friends  so  honored  me  last 
night,"  I  answered,  thinking,  now  the  stream  of  min- 
isterial consolation  was  going  to  burst  forth. 

"I  hope,  (with  a  falling  inflection)  if  elected  (with 
rising  ditto)  you  will  make  us  a  good  officer."  (doubt- 
ful on  good.) 

"If  I  am  elected  I  will  discharge  the  duties  of  the 
office  faithfully  and  honestly,"  I  answered. 

"There  are  so  many  evils,  Mr.  Smith,"  he  resumed, 
"in  connection  with  oltice-seeking,  that  I  fear  very  few 
men  can  resist  them  all,"  (the  inflection  on  few  ousted 
nic.)  There  is  the  reprehcnsil>lc  practice  of  patron- 
izing saloons,  and  kindred  places,  to  make  votes.  I 
could  hardly  believe,  Mr.  Smith,  that  you  would  adopt 

—  13 


^S  JOHN    SjMITH,    democrat, 

or  encourage  such   methods   of  securing  the  ballots  of 
your  deluded  fellow-men." 

"No,  no,  su".  No,  I  rather  stammered.  No,  I  have 
never  done — nev-nevcr  approved  or  en-encouraged 
such  practices." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  he  continued.  "Bro- 
ther Goldman,  good  soul,  was  deeply  concerned  about 
you,  and  urgently  requested  me  to  call  after  service;  I 
came  before,  having  sufficient  lime,  to  see  you.  It  is 
contrary  to  my  principles  to  visit  on  the  Sabbath,  and 
very  painful  to  me  to  meddle  with  personal  matters, 
but  from  what  good  brother  Goldman  told  me,  1 
thought  it  was  my  duty  as  a  Christian  minister  to  call 
on  you  as  soon  as  possible,  and  satisfy  myself.  (Here 
I  thought  of  the  dueling  code,  he  demands  satisfac- 
tion, where's  my  consolation?)  You  must  have  fallen 
into  bad  hands  last  evening.  Were  you  actually 
knocked  down  three  times,  by  those  drunken  ruf- 
fians?" 

"Knocked  down  three  times!"  echoed  1.  "Who 
told  you  such  a  story   as  that,  Mr.  Bonham?" 

"I  understood  our  worthy  brother  Goldman  to  say 
that  you  were  enticed  away  to  a  drinking  saloon,  over- 
come with  strong  drink,  set  upon  by  a  number  of  in- 
toxicated men,  severely  beaten;  yes,  knocked  down 
three  several  times,"  and  Mr.  Bonham  concluded  with 
a  glance  at  my  tout  oiscniblc,  (for,  my  friends  (?)  had 
not  allowed  me  time  to  shave  or  dress)  (hat  plainly 
said,  and  1  believe  it  all. 

"If  Mr.  Goldnian  luld  you  that,  he  willingly  or  not, 
told  what  is  untrue." 

"Ah!  indeed!"  lie  exclainu-d,  "could  it  be  jiossiblc, 
that  good    biolher    Goldman    wouM     niisirpiesenl  ?      I 


A    VKRY    QUIET    SABBATH.  99 

ha\c  always  had  implicit  coiitklcnce  in  his  vcracitv. 
He's  such  an  earnest  worker  in  the  j^^reat  cause." 

"lie  may  he  an  earnest  worker,  ])ut  he's  very  un- 
skillful. It  would  require  the  rarest  ecclesiastical  tal- 
ent to  correct  the  hlunders  of  such  a  lahorer.  He 
should  he,  oi"  try  to  he,  truthful  and  candid."  This,  I 
said  in  a  nettled  tone,  for  it  was  appaix-nt  that  Mr. 
Bonham  had  prejudged  the  matter  from  Coldman's 
statements, 

"Vou  are  too  sexere,"  he  resumed.  "Are  ycju  quite 
sure  hrother  Coldman  misstated  the  lads.?"  This  in- 
sulting remark  was  accompanied  hy  a  scrutinizing  look 
at  my  disfigured  face. 

"I  have  said  as  much,"  I  answered  rather  hotly; 
"and,  Mr.  Bonham,  1  think  my  word  is  entitled  to 
quite  as  much  credence  as  that  of  Mr.  Coldman;  how- 
ever, I  do  not  wish  to  discuss  our  relative  veracity." 

"Oh,  no  offense;  no  offense,  Mr.  Smith,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "none  whatever;  hut  you  know  a  minister  has 
to  speak  plainly  on  such  topics,  and  — " 

"Mr.  Bonham,"  I  interrupted,  rather  angrily,  "your 
calling  as  a  minister  does  not  confer  the  right  to  come 
into  a  man's  house,  and  talk  to  him  as  a  liar  and  com- 
mon drunkard,  with  no  better  evidence  of  these  grave 
assumptions  than  the  exaggerated  tattle  of  a  meddle- 
some hypocrite,  and  the  disfigured  condition  of  my 
face." 

"Mr.  Smith,  you  are  excited,"  he  replied,  "too  se- 
vere; I  meant  to  say  that  brother  Coldman  is  a  very 
consistent  Christian.  I  never  have  known  him  to  de- 
part from  the  straight  and  narrow  path." 

"Yes,  I  think,"  I  added  with  asperity,  "that  such  a 
path  would  suit  his  soul ;  the  narrower,  the  better,  for 


lOO  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

it   would   be  doubly   lost,    here    and   hereafter,  in    the 
broad  way." 

"You  are  sarcastic,  Mr.  Smith,"  he  said;  "Brother 
Goldman  was  only  discharging  a  Christian  duty,  and 
it  does  not  become  you,  Mr.  Smith,  under  the  circum- 
stances, to  disparage  a  godly  man  when  he — " 

"Mr.  Bonham,"  I  interrupted,  "3'ou  must  excuse  me, 
but  I  cannot  listen  to  such  remarks.  They  are  full  of 
the  assumption  that  I  am  not  a  truthful  man,  while  Mr. 
Goldman  is  immaculate,  when  I  know  he  has  misrep- 
resented me  grossly,  and  sent  you  here  to  lecture  me 
in  this,  I  must  say,  ungentlemanly  manner;  all  because 
vou  both  eagerly  jump  at  the  most  uncharitable  con- 
clusions, without  once  asking  for  an  explanation  of 
reports  and  appearances,  so  condemning  to  me." 

"Ahem!  Ahem!  1  think,"  he  replied,  with  digni- 
fied asperity,  "from  appearances,  that  Brother  Cold- 
man  could  not  have  been  so  very  far  tVom  the  truth  in 
his  assertions." 

I  was  too  angry  to  trust  myself  to  vc))lv  to  this. 
After  a  moment's  silence,  I  said : 

"Mr.  Bonham,  this  is  my  home;  to-da\'  is  Sunday; 
you  are  a  minister,  I'm   told." 

"1  am  cjuite  apprised  of  those  facts,"  he  replied. 

"i  th()u<'ht  you  had  lost  sijrht  of  them,  from  your 
remarks." 

"Not  at  all,  Mr.  Smith,"  he  resumed,  "you  must 
have  overlooked  the  fact,  tlial  ministers  have,  by  vir- 
tue of  their  calling,  rights  and  immunities  not  vouch- 
safi'd  to  ordinary  indixiduals;  and  in  accordance  with 
a  time  lion — " 

"Mr.  Bonham,''  1  iiiteii  iiptiul, '' 1  <lo  not  recognize, 
nor  will    I  tolerate,  the  i-\ercise  oi"  any   such  rights  or 


A    VERY    QUIET    SABBATH.  lOI 

immunities   in    my   own    house;  and    you   must  waive 
them,  or  I  must  dispense  with  your  company." 

"Very  good,  Mr.  Smith,"  he  said,  rising.  "You 
order  me  out  of  your  house;  order  the  preacher  out! 
I  can  comprehend  now  why  good  Brother  Goldman 
was  so  shocked,  and  anxious  ahout  your  appearance 
and  conduct.  T  am  truly  sorry  a  man  that  was  so 
well  spoken  of  hy  his  neighbors,  should  fall  into  such 
bad  ways.  I  hope,  Mr.  Smith,  you'll  soon  recover 
from  the  baneful  effects  of  last  night's  potations,  when 
you  will  be  enabled  to  see  the  right,  and  come  and 
make  due  apology  and  acknowledgments  with  a  con- 
trite heart,  and  spirit  of  Christian  hinnility.  1  will 
now  comply  with  your  recjuest,  to  leave  your  house. 
Good  morning,  Mr,  Smith.  Give  my  loving  respects 
to  Mrs.  Smith;  poor  sorrow-laden  soul;  how  my  heart 
bleeds  for  her." 

A. — "Rather  disagreeable  phase  in  the  canvass, 
John.      Why  don't  you  go  on?" 

"I  was  thinking:  first,  how  much  I  wished  to  assist 
his  departure  with  a  very  heavy  boot;  secondly, 
whether  or  not,  I  ouglit  to  apologize  to  the  good,  sen- 
sible men  who  constitute  the  ministry,  for  calling  this 
miserable  sham,  a  minister.  The  churches,  religion, 
the  world  would  be  far  better  without  this  class  of 
blimdering  pretenders." 

A. — "Mayl)e  you  think  preachers  should  not  med- 
dle with  politics?" 

"Oh!  no.  On  the  contrary,  T  think  they  have  the 
same  rights,  and  as  a  learned  class  of  good  men, 
a  better  right,  than  bad,  ignorant  men,  to  shape  our 
politics;  but  vou  can  see  my  meaning.  I  think  they'd 
better  keep  out,  if  they  have  to  go  in,  in  this  blunder- 


I02  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

ing,  intolerant,  exasperating  way,  as  illustrated  by  Mr. 
Bonham." 

A. — "Was  he  on  the  opposite  side?" 

"Yes." 

A. — "Fni  tired;  let's  take  a  rest  till  trt-morrow 
night." 

"No.  Day  after  to-nKJirow  niglit.  It's  Sunday 
you  know,  to-morrow." 


KNI)    OK     OUK    QUIET    SABBATH.  I03 


NIGHT  VII, 

END    OF    OUK    QUIET    CHRISTIAN     SABBATH. 

A. — "That  caption  is  double  entendre^  John," 

I  apply  it,  singly,  to  that  particular  Sunday  in  my 
campaign;  if  reflective  people  vvish  a  general  applica- 
tion, the  End  will  be  sadder  to  them,  generally,  than 
it  was  to  me  specially,  but  none  the  less  true. 

After  Mr.  Bonham  left,  the  situation  was  gloomy. 
Two  new  foes  in  front;  either  far  more  formidable 
and  implacable,  than  Sleek  or  Blackman.  The  new 
com2:)lication  in  the  rear,  brought  about  by  the  loss  of 
the  Gay  note,  and  the  unaccountable  substitution  of 
that  pestiferous  hand  grenade:  "•Johnny,  come  this  p. 
m.  vSussie,"  seemed  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  a 
satisfactory^  adjustment  in  that  quarter.  You  know 
what  great  and  discriminate  reverence,  women  have 
for  reformers  and  preachers.  I  had  virtually  ordered 
out  of  my  house,  not  as  reformers  or  ministers,  but  as 
frauds,  the  so-called  apostle  of  temperance  and  the 
hypocrite,  Bonham ;  was  there  ever  such  temerity." 

A. — "John,  your  wife  would  only  ask  an  explana- 
tion, in  regard  to  the  treatment  of  the  men ;  and  so 
for  as  the  notes  were  concerned,  she  was  not  childishly 
unreasonable  ?" 

"It  is  easy  enough  to  talk,  but  you  try,  with  the 
impedimenta  of  your  first  serious  misdemeanor  crush- 


I04  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

ing  you  down,  to  cope  with  a  woman,  when  she's 
armed  with  an  inexplainable  note,  and  occupies  a  base 
affording  a  soHtary  inference.  VVliy,  bless  your  soul, 
man;  she'll  go  to  work,  with  such  flimsy  material,  and 
fortify  her  position  with  tons,  yes,  tons  of  unassailable, 
cubic  facts.  For  a  demoralized  husband  to  assault  such 
fortifications,  when  he's  'totally  disarmed,'  and  there's 
a  tattling  'guard  stationed  in  every  house,'  it's  folly — 
sheer  madness.  Let  me  say,  my  wife  was  not  a  quar- 
relsome, nor  more  than  ordinarily  unreasonable  wo- 
man. You  understand  this  was  the  first  time,  she  ever 
had  any  reason  that  is,  a  woman's  reason,  to  think  I 
was  not  a  model  husband.  Also,  by  way  of  self-justi- 
fication, I  will  state  it  was  thr  first  time  ever  the 
shadow  of  such  imputation  fell  across  my  mind.  With 
these  explanatory  remarks,  you  can  comprehend  why 
I  was  so  full  of  apprehension  ;  so  morbidly  sensitive,  and 
also  account  for  nn  strong  way  of  expressing  as  trivial  a 
thing  as  tlic  rattling  of  a  lu'll-wire.  Even  now,  I 
have  associated  with  the  ominous  sound  of  that  wire 
the  alarm  of  the  rattlesnake;  the  music  of  the  first 
clods  on  your  friend's  coffin  lid;  the  long  roll  of  the 
drum  at  mid-night;  death  knells,  and  all  such  highly 
entertaining  'concordance  of  sweet  sounds.' 

I  have  been  seriously  impressed  witli  tlie  idea  of 
writing  a  scientific  disquisition  on  the  influence,  reli- 
gious, moral,  political,  social  and  domestic,  of  bell- 
wires.  You  see,  that  (piiet  vSalibalh,  that  detached 
bell-wire  was  my  telegraph  line;  I  held  shares  enough 
to  monopolize  it.  It  was  my  medium  of  communica- 
tion with  the  outside  world;  and  allhough  tlie  <les- 
patches  were  like  war  messages,  1  thin  preferred  a 
comnnniication  o\er  the  \S'ire    I'lom  the  outside   work!. 


END    OF    OUR     QUIET    SAHHATH.  I05 

to  parol  intelligence  from  within.  I  wished  earnestly 
to  pacify  Mrs.  Smith;  it  was  dinner  time,  and  I  found 
candidates  could  be  wolfishly  hungry  for  something 
else  besides  office." 

A. — "Why  didn't  you  go  armed  with  the  courage  of 
conscious  innocence,  and  quiet,  or  stand  the  storm." 

"Conscious  mnoccnce  to  mspn'e  courage,  or  as  a 
weapon  of  defense,  may  do  well  enough  to  talk  boast- 
ingly  about  remote  from  the  seat  of  war,  but  I  would 
feel  sorry  for  the  man  who  would  risk  it,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. I  know  it  will  do  to  face  any  number  of 
male  accusers;  it  will  carry  a  man  bravely  through  the 
trying  ordeal  of  a  protracted  judicial  investigation;  but 
as  a  weapon,  offensive  or  defensive,  against  a  woman 
who  is  armed  with  a  suspicious  circumstance,  it's  sim- 
ply not  worth  a  red. 

The  hunger  and  unpleasantness  combined,  made  me 
sullen,  like  an  ugly  boy  that  goes  out  after  a  drubbing, 
and  throws  himself  prone  upon  the  earth  and  wishes 
he  could  die,  with  the  mental  reservation  of  mockinsr 
his  grief-stricken  parents  when  they  weep  over  his 
corpse.  I  wouldn't  go  to  dinner — I'd  starve — yes 
starve  to  death  if  necessary,  and  then  she  would  be 
sor— " 

"Mr.  Smith,  dinner's  ready,  and  if  you  want  to  eat 
any  thing  you'd  better  come  along.  I  should  think 
you'd  be  hungry  by  this  time." 

Ever  glorious  woman!  The  first  to  relent;  the  first 
to  forgive.  There's  nothing  like  a  stalwart  determin- 
ation to  bring  a  woman  down.  There  was  no  ques- 
tion about  my  wanting  something  to  eat,  anything,  and 
now  that  the  sacrifice  of  manliness  (?)  in  so  doing,  was 

i-emoved,  I  marched  forth,  like  a  conquering  hero,  to 
—14 


Io6  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

the  banquet.  I  ate  savagely,  and  felt  more  civilized. 
I  arose  from  the  feast,  and  imperiously  weaving  my 
hand,  remarked : 

"I  fain  would  sleep,  and  would  not  brook  disturb- 
ance." 

"Disturbance!"  echoed  my  wife.  "Mr.  Smith  are 
you  stark  mad?  or  haven't  you  recovei'ed  from  the  in- 
fluences of  last  night?" 

"I  reck'  not,"  I  jocosely  replied,  "The  great  nomi- 
nee must  sleep." 

"The  great  catsfoot!"  she  retorted.  "If  you  think 
I'm  going  to  run  to  that  hall  door  five  hundred  times 
this  afternoon,  you  are  out  of  your  reckoning,  awfully, 
Mr.  great  nominee." 

'     "Can't  you  pull  that   abominable   bell-wire    in,   or 
out?" 

"I've  tried  to  pull  it  in  and  out  too,"  she  answered; 
"but  it  wont  come  in  for  the  knob,  nor  out  for  the 
tangle  you've  tied  in  the  end  of  the  wire." 

An  idea  struck  me;  why  hadn't  it  struck  before. 
My  order  slate,  "I  shall  employ  the  odylic  influence," 
I  said,  "that  great  minds  exercise  over  smaller  ones,  at 
a  distance ;"  firstly,  to  conceal  from  her  the  mean  dodge 
I  was  going  to  practice  on  my  friends;  and,  secondly,  to 
inspire  her  with  respect  for  my  greatness  of  mind, 
when  she  would  be  wondering  at  the  success  of  the 
ruse. 

"Odylic  humbug!"  she  ([uietly  responded — "you'd 
better  have  employed  some  cephalic  force  and  kept  out 
of  that  everlasting  nomination." 

I  paid  no  attention  to  this  last  pettish  reply  of  Mrs. 
Smith,  but   went   out   from    her  presence  and   got  my 


END  OF  OUR  QUIET  SABBATH.         1 07 

large  order  slate,  on  which  I  wrote  in  a  large  legihle 
hand — 

Dr.  Smith, 

Absent  on  Profession ai.  Business, 

TILL  Monday. 

I  suspended  this  on  its  hook,  outside  the  hall  door, 
locked  the  door  securely,  and  went  to  bed.  It  was 
difficult  to  reconcile  myself  to  the  lie — no,  prevarica- 
tion— for  it  was  not  in  strict  accord  with  the  character 
of  honest  John  Smith;  but  you  see,  I  was  desperate  for 
sleep.  In  my  exhausted  condition  there  was  no  trouble 
to  fall  into  a  sound  sleep. 

I  slept,  perhaps,  five  or  six  minutes,  when  my  wife 
aroused  me  with  the  information  that  there  was  a 
tramp  at  the  back  door;  he  had  knocked  at  all  the 
doors  and  windows  in  the  house,  and  she  was  afraid  of 
him.  I  got  up  mad  enough  to  fight,  thinking  the 
scamp  had  read  the  slate,  and  concluded  my  absence 
afforded  him  a  good  chance  to  pilfer.  I  took  my  cane 
and  went  to  investigate.  My  thieving  tramp  proved 
an  honest  old  gardner,  whom  I  had  employed  ever}'^ 
season  for  years;  a  faithful  hand  and  friend.  I  knew 
he  could  not  read  the  slate,  and  from  his  persistent 
efforts  to  see  me,  he  thought  he  had  something  very 
important  to  tell  me.  These  thoughts  toned  my  voice, 
and  wrath,  so  I  could  quite  calmly  ask: 

"What  is  the  matter,  Thomas?" 

"Oh,  zur!  yon  Blockman  was  ower  bod,  ees  tellin' 
all  manner  'o  lees  aboot  yous;  an'  I  'lowed  it  was  me 
bounden  dooty  to  coom  mesen  an'  teel  yous;  an'  whan 
I  daneed  'is  lees  'e  wished  sore  to  poond  me" 


I08  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Never  mind  him,  Thomas;  he's  a  bad  man;  he'll 
get  repaid  for  his  wickedness,"  I  replied. 

"Weel,  yous  honor  do  noot  aboot  it?"  he  asked. 

"No,  no ;  give  him  rope  enough,  and  he'll  hang  him 
self." 

"I  'ope  so  mysen;  beg  parden  for  distoorbin  yous  'an 
the  leddie,"  and  bidding  us  good  day,  Thomas  de- 
parted. 

I  felt  myself  lapsing  into  that  nervous  irritable 
state,  the  result  of  constant  worry  and  exhaustion, 
where  insomnia  occurs,  when  sleep  is  the  only  remedy ; 
where,  as  in  mania  a  potu^  or  other  manias,  the  patient 
must  sleep  or  die.  Having  an  unexpected  interval  of 
at  least  ten  minutes,  free  from  disturbance  outside,  and 
not  sleeping,  I  felt  some  uneasiness  about  my  case:  and 
in  my  anxiety,  I  took  a  dose  of  chloral;  very,  very 
foolishly.  Never  having  taken  the  villainous  drug, 
totally  unused  to  it,  I  was  soon  very  calm — drowsy — I 
— elected?  Yes,  by  overwhelming  majority.  Honesty 
is  the  best  policy — Hon.  John  Smith,  Lord  High  May- 
or of  Bunkumville — New  York — 20,000,000  inhabit- 
ants— Thrilling  scene  in  State  house — Governor's 
office — Petition  of  one  Blackman  for  pardon  to  his 
excellency.  Gov.  John  Smith.  His  excellency  reluct- 
antly signs  pardon — reminds  petitioner  of  some  dirty 
work  done  years  ago  by  petitioner  against  His  Excel- 
lency— tears,  etc. — Speech  of  .Senator  Smith,  of  Illi- 
nois, in  congress,  against  corruption  in  high  places. — 
Tell  'im  to  leave  dozen  copies — good  book — Hiogra2:)hy 
of  His  Excellency  Hon.  John  Smith,  L.  L.  D.,  M.  D., 
l'\  K.  S.,  President  i)f  the  United  States  of  America — 
bound  in  embossed  morocco — extra  gilt — thribble  gilt- 


END    OF    OUR    QUIET    SABBATH.  1 09 

edge,  spring-back,  copiously  illustrated  frontispiece  ot 
fine  steel  portrait  of  his  excellency — marginal  notes  and 
references,  complete  in  12  volumes,  quarto.  "His  Se- 
rene Highness  and  Unequalled  Excellency  The  Hon- 
orable John  Smith,  D.  D,,  L.  L,  D.,  M.  D.,  etc.,  Pres- 
ident of  the  United  States  and  Mexico! — was  born  on 
the  22d  day  of  Sept.,  A.  D.  1830,  "of  poor  but  hon- 
est parents,"  in  the  obscure  village  of  Athens,  in  the 
State  of  Al 

Bang!  Crash! — Hello!  what's  up? 

"Mr.  Smith!  Mr.  Smith!"  screamed  my  wife,  "do 
get  up  and  stop  that  senseless  jabbering.  There's  some 
wretch  drunk,  and  banging  at  the  hall  door.  I  believe 
he's  broken  that  stained  glass  transom,  for  I  heard  an 
awful  crash;  for  mercy  sake  go  and  drive  him  away." 

"Madam,  do  you  address  His  Excellency  Presid — " 
I  began,  about  half  awake,  and  full  of  chloral — "Pres- 
ident of  these  glorious  United  States  in  such  disrespect- 
ful terms  as  — "  Here  I  got  a  sound  shaking,  follow- 
ed by  — 

"John  vSmith,  I  believe  that  everlasting  nomination 
has  run  you  raving  crazy — President  of  the  United 
States!     You  are  a  nice  looking  President." 

"Madam,  I  just  reluctantly  signed  the  pardon  of  one 
malefactor;  you  should  be  'stremely  cautious — the  Gov- 
ernor, you  know,  can" — another  frantic  shake,  for  my 
wife  had  got  seriously  alarmed,  and  uttered  a  harrow- 
ing cry,  that  fully  aroused  me. 

"My  God!  has  my  poor,  poor  husband  gone  de- 
ranged?" 

"Then  Pm  not  President,  nor  Governor,"  I  said, 
smiling  bitterly — "Pve  only  been  dreaming,  my  dear; 
don't  be  uneasy." 


no  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Mr.  Smith,  do  go  and  drive  that  wretch  away.  I 
can  hear  him  fumbHng  around  there  yet." 

"Yes'm,"  I  meekly  said,  and  obeyed. 

To  have  such  a  dream  reaUzed  in.  such  a  way.  Jerk 
ed  suddenly  from  the  top  round  of  the  ladder  of  polit- 
cal  ambition,  and  falling  '•'•kerxvhap''''  to  the  earth,  and 
then  dragging  yourself  off  to  the  front  door,  to  find  a 
wandering  minstrel  from  the  band  of  Herr  Ophcleide, 
so  drunk  he  couldn't  stand,  sitting  on  the  stoop,  with 
an  E  flat  bugle  mashed  as  flat  as  a  pancake,  by  his 
side,  the  slate  frame  in  front  of  him  for  a  music  rack, 
and  the  bell-knob  in  his  mouth,  with  his  cheeks  dis- 
tended, and  his  eyes  protruding,  in  the  effort  to  force 
wind  into,  and  music  out  of  the  knob. 

"Smash  'r  up — she  doan  mu-sic-hic-ate  wuflfcent — 
fine  ins-ment,  too" — he  remarked,  as  I  opened  the 
door,  and  encountered  that  exhaustively  vacuous  stare 
that  belongs  to  nothing  but  a  soulless,  idiotic  "drunk." 

"What  do  you  want  here?  Why  can't  you  let 
Christian  people  alone  on  Sunday  ?  Why  did  you 
break  that  slate?"     He  explained — 

"I  guess,  boss,  I  pull  er  slay  out  'an  struck  er  do  bell 
on  horn,  or  struck  er  horn  non  ic  er  pull  out  wilf  er 
slay  bell,  or  slay'd  er  horn  pull  out  on  er  struck  bell, 
or,  damfinovvhi  — " 

"Oh,  thunder!  You  take  your  battered  horn,  and 
your  battered  self  away,  quick,  or  I'll  have  you  sent  to 
the  calaboose."  This  last  word  reached  his  compre- 
hension, lie  asked  me  to  lielp  him  up.  I  diil,  and 
giving  him  his  battered  lioin,  helped  him  out  of  the 
gate.  He  staggered  off,  singing,  or  trying  to  sing, 
"Won'  g'ome  ell  mornin,"  accompanying  himself  on 
the  collapsed    bugle,   with  an  occasional    blast    that  re- 


END    OF    OUK    QUIET    SABBATH.  Ill 

sembled  the  bray  of  an  asthmatic  donkey.  I  saw  hhn 
on  his  "winding  way"  meet  several  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, en  route  to  afternoon  service.  Fancy  their  com- 
ments. I  picked  ujD  the  pieces  of  the  slate,  threw  them 
away,  replaced  the  hell-wire  and  knob,  took  my  slate 
frame  in  the  house,  with  a  hopeless  view  of  the  chance 
to  sleep. 

"A. — How  about  your  odylic  force?" 

"The  influence  was  destroyed  with  the  slate.  My 
want  of  sleep  was  growing  imperative;  my  head  ached 
wofully,  and  mnst  get  worse  unless  I  slept.  What 
should  I  do?  I  couldn't  go  away  from  home,  nor 
could  I  sleep  at  home.  In  this  reckless  state  I  cared 
for  nothing  but  a  quiet  sleep  of  several  hours.  In  my 
great  need  I  verified  the  old  adage,  "necessity  is  the 
mother  of  invention,"  in  the  conception  of  the  follow- 
ing plan.  Without  apprising  my  wife,  I  went  to  the 
rag-bag  and  fished  out,  what  I  supposed  was  two 
yards  of  black  crepe,  but  found  it  grenadine — any  way, 
enough  like  mourning  to  suit  my  purpose.  I  tore  off 
three  or  four  long  strips,  and  tied  them  to  the  bell- 
knob;  investing  it  with  a  funereal  aspect  that  would 
paralyze  with  respect  the  most  ruthless  intruder,  and 
awe  him  back  from  a  wanton  violation  of  the  sanctity 
of  a  grief-stricken  household.  And  to  make  assurance 
doubly  sure,  I  fastened  on  the  slate-hook  a  large  card, 
inscribed : 

SAD    BEREAVEMENT,  SOmJlL 

A  DEATH,  nisi. 

JOHN  SMITH,  soninit. 

With  this  death's-head  device  to  "fright  the  souls  from 
weak  advei'saries,"  I  composed  myself  as  best  I  could, 


112  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

to  sleep,  without  the  choral,  as  I  didn't  wish  any  more 
ambitious  visions  to  be  so  disagreeably  dispelled.  I 
was  still  somewhat  under  the  influence  of  the  drug,  and 
with  its  assistance  had  almost  time  enough  to  get  a 
little  drowsy,  when  in  popped  my  wife : 

"Mr.  Smith,  there's  an  Irishman  tiptoeing  around  in 
the  yard  like  he  was  walking  on  eggs,  or  wanted  to 
steal  something.     He's  crying,  and  drunk  or  crazy." 

"Dear  me !  can't  you  send  him  off  without  disturb- 
ing me?" 

I  did  open  the  back  door  when  he  knocked,  but  I 
wouldn't  have  done  it  for  anything,  but  he  tapped  so 
gently,"  continued  she,  "that  I  thought  it  was  sister 
Sharpnose — and  when  I  opened  the  door  there  stood 
an  Irishman,  with  his  hat  in  one  hand  and  a  club  in  the 
other.  I  knew  he  was  crazy  the  first  words  he  spoke ; 
so  I  shut  the  door  and  locked  it.  He's  moping  around 
out  there  now." 

"What  did  he  say,"  I  asked,  a  ray  of  light  penetrat- 
ing my  chloralized  brain. 

"Oh  he  is  crazy  as  a  loon,"  answered  my  wife.  "He 
said,  'Big  pardon,  but  whenever  in  the  wide  world 
did  it  happen?  Honest  sowl  was  worse  hurt  than  he 
thousrht  from  them  mutherin  rascals.  When  is  ther 
wake?'  and  then  he  began  to  cry  like  a  baby,  and  I 
was  scared,  and  shut  the  door.  You  had  better  go  and 
get  him  out  of  the  yard;  I  can't  rest  till  he's  gone." 

I  saw  quite  through:  told  my  wife  to  remain  in  the 
house,  which  was  altogether  unnecessary.  I  found,  as  I 
expected,  my  friend  Flaiinagan,  who  had  seen  in  pass- 
ing, the  black  drapery  in  front,  and  stepped  in  to  read 
the  card.  He  couldn't  read  the  Latin  half,  and  of 
course,   had    no    clue    to    tlic  dodge. 


END   Ol-    OUR    QUIET    SABBATH.  II3 

A. — "No,   nor   nobody   else   could,  or  shoidd    have 

had.     Whatever  made  you  do  such  a  silly  thing?" 

I  have  wondered  myself.  I  think,  though,  it  was 
due,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the  effects  of  the  chloral. 
Although  I  would  have  given  any  thing  for  sleep 
then,  yet  I  don't  think  I  would  have  done  such  a  fool- 
ish thing  as  that,  when  quite  at  myself.  I  repented 
hastily,  as  you'll  learn.  When  I  opened  the  door  and 
stepped  out,  Pat  staggered  back,  with  the  first  and 
only  expression  of  terror  I  ever  saw  on  his  face:  as- 
suming an  attitude  of  defense  and  brandishing  his 
shillalah,  he  exclaimed: 

"By  the  howly  jimpin  Moses!  Kape  back!  I'll 
foight  a  whole  rigimint  o'  brathein  men  o'  flish  an' 
blood,  but  niver  a  did  corpse,  shure." 

I  thought  I  heard  a  shriek  of  alarm  through  the 
w^indow;  heeding  it  not,  I  smiled;  extended  my  hand 
to  Pat,  telling  him  it  was  all  a  joke,  to  get  some  rest; 
to  sleep,  free  from  interruption.  He  looked  closely  at 
my  face;  cautiously  took  my  hand,  and  finding  it 
warm,  gave  it  a  hearty  squeeze,  and  joyfully  said : 

"By  ther  powers,  an'  it's  yez  own  silf  quick,  an'  not 
did  the  laist  bit  in  the  worruld,  an'  aint  it  Mister  Flin- 
igin  as  is  glad.  Och  an'  yez  know  nothing  aboot  jist 
how  me  sowl  was  sthricken  down  wid  grafe,  when  I 
was  passin',  and  see  thim  morernin'  wades  hangin'  an 
yez  door,  an'  thin  ther  carud.  Whativer  did  yez  say 
yez  was  intircly  did  for.''" 

I  explained  to  Pat  that  the  card  read,  with  the  Latin, 
"Sad    bereavement    of  sleep!      A  death,  unless  John 
Smith  sleeps." 

"An'  does   yez  honor   s'pose  a  mon's  goin'  to  sthop 
—15 


11^,  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

to  stoody  Latin  whin  'is  bist  frind  is  did?"  naively 
hut  very  sensihlv  asked  Pat. 

"That  is  very  true,  Mr.  Flannagan,  and  I  was  fool- 
ish in  doing  such  a  thing;  I  did  not  wish  my  wife  to 
know  it,  vou  see  now,  why  she  did  not  understand 
you.  I  wish,  as  you  go  out,  you  would  quietly  re- 
move the  card  and  drapery;  put  them  in  your  pockets 
and  throw  them  away  after  you  have  gone.  I'll  try 
to  sleep." 

Pat  who  was  alive  to  anything  that  promised  fun, 
replied : 

"Och!  an  I  niver  wad  tak  'em  afF  twill  I  did  slape; 
shure  an'  it's  a  good  joke — but  it's  mesilf  as  was  jokin' 
in  rale  airnist  in  me  grafe,  shure." 

"Mr.  Flannagan,  it's  best  to  take  the  silly,  deceptive 

device  down;  I  wasn't  at  myself  when  I  put  it 
there." 

Pat  gazed  enquiringly  at  me,  and  replied: 

"Had  a  wea  dhrop  too  minny  ther  day?  Ach  an' 
that's  all  O.  K.  wid  Misther  Flinnigin,  but  let  thim 
morernin  wades  stay  a  bit.  I'll  till  inquiring  frinds 
it's  a  foreign  rilation  as  is  did,  an'  yez  want  a  wea  bit 
o'  quiet  in  yer  grafe  twill  the  morrow,  an'  not  be 
afther  distoorbin  ov  yez;  thit's  the  virra  ticket,  shure; 
lit  'em  sthay." 

I  did  let  them  stay.  Pat  went  away  promising  to 
satisfy  all  enquiring  friends.  I  let  hira  go  with  the 
conviction  that  I  was  drunk  on  whiskey,  knowing  I 
could  trust  him.  What  would  Goldman  and  Bon- 
ham  have  done  with  less  evidence  than  Pat  had?  I 
sliuddcr  to  think. 

After  telling  my  wife  who  it  was,  l)ut  not  exactly 
why  it  was,  and  assuring  her  the  person  was  not  drunk 


END    OF    OUR    QUIET    SAHUATH  II5 

iior  crazy,  1  went  back  to  l)ccl,  with  great  confidence  in 
Pat's  "tilling  all  inquirin'  frinds  it  was  a  foreign  rila- 
tiou  as  was  did,"  and  asking  them  not  to  disturb  me  in 
my  grief  till  morning. 

I  presume  I  had  got  about  half  asleep — I  was  dream- 
ing of  an  election  riot  at  the  polls — thought  Jones,  my 
opponent,  had  struck  me  a  blow — starting  up  to  resent 
it — my  wife  interfered  and — what? — how? — who? 

"Mister  Smith!  Smith!  There's  somebody  at  our 
gate  fighting,"  exclaimed  my  wife.  "Don't  you  hear 
'em?" 

I  listened;  sure  enough,  I  could  hear  voices  in  angry 
altercation.  Mr.  Flannagan's,  on  a  high  key,  came 
distinctly: 

"An'  I'll  knock  aff  the  hid  aff 'n  yez  an'  yez  put  yez 
foot  in  thit  gate  shure.  Don't  I  till  yez  all  the  toime, 
it's  not  the  laist  bit  ov  'imsilf  as  is  did,  at  all,  at  all, 
but  a  foreign  rilation  as  lives  abroad — an'  whativer  yez 
want  to  dig  a  grave  in  this  counthry,  to  birry  a  mon 
as  lives  in  the  ould  counthry  for,  is  more  nor  Pat  Flin- 
nigin  un'erstan's,  shure." 

1  was  pretty  well  aroused  by  the  time  I  reached  the 
door.  I  found  Pat  guarding  the  gate,  while  the  sex- 
ton stood  at  bay,  with  the  threatening  aspect  of  a 
baited  bull.  When  I  appeared  at  the  door  the  sexton 
seemed  somewhat  startled  to  see  me  alive.  He  could 
n't  read  the  card  from  where  he  stood,  yet  his  quick 
eye  for  business  had  caught  the  signal  of  distress,  and 
he  wanted  to  be  on  time  as  an  applicant  for  the  prob- 
ably unfilled  place  of  grave-digger.  I  heard  him  tell 
Pat  he  was  as  good  a  democrat  as  any  other  grave- 
digger,  and  had  as  good  a  right  for  the  favorable  con- 
sideration of  his  claims  on  the  party.     Asserting  this 


Il6  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

loud  enough  for  me  to  hear  it,  he  made  an  attempt  to 
pass  in,  when  he  was  roughly  shoved  back  by  Mr. 
Flannagan,  who  said : 

"An'  yez  doant  go  a  tut  in,  an'  barrin  its  Soonday, 
an'  I  doant  moind  a  hooter  fur  thit,  an'  'is  honor'll  give 
me  the  worrud  an'  I'll  bate  in  twill  thit  thick  hid  o' 
yez,  thit  it's  not  one,  as  I've  bin  tillin  ov  yez  all  the 
toime,  ov  the  immagiate  household  of 'is  prisint  family 
as  is  did,  but  a  foreign  rilation  as  lives  abroad,  an'  rilatid 
twill  'im  at  a  distance-" 

Then  directing  his  remarks  to  me,  Mr.  Flannagan 
resumed — 

"An'  doant  yez  think,  yer  honor,  thit  ther  blatherin', 
bloonderin'  corrups  planther  kapes  on  thryin  to  dig  a 
grave  in  this  counthry  for  a  did  foreigner,  that's  this 
blissid  minit  livin'  in  the  ould  counthry!  Did  yez  iver 
say  such  an  arrant  fool  in  all  yer  borrun  days?  shure!" 

I  went  to  the  gate  and  explained  to  the  kind-hearted, 
considerate  sexton;  also  added  my  regrets,  that  I  could 
not  then  give  his  claims  a  favorable  consideration,  as  I 
had  no  urgent  need  of  a  grave  at  home  or  abroad;  but 
if  death  did  create  a  necessity  for  his  appointment,  he 
should  certainly  have  the  place,  foreign  or  domestic. 
To  enliven  his  hopes,  I  finally  told  him  if  I  should  be 
interrupted  five  or  six  thousand  times  in  the  next  ten 
hours,  to  please  call  early  the  next  nioiiiing  and  take 
my  measure;  also,  I'd  use,  in  the  mean  time,  all  the 
intlncnce  I  possessctl,  in  his  behalf,  with  any  democratic 
corpse  I  knew  to  be  sound. 

This  "disappointee"  went   slowly  aw  ay,  with  a  very 
grave  aspect,  gratefully  murmuring: 

"Old  reb-l-n't    care-'f-was  dead;  (h-nk    ev-r  s-nce 


END    OF    OUR    QUIET    SABBATH.  II7 

noin-tion,  'counts  fr  put-<^  crcp-'n  do-nob,"  and  the 
emphasized  words  ceased  to  be  audible. 

Satisfied,  by  this  episode,  that  my  crazy  chloral  de- 
vice was  not  only  cruelly  deceptive,  but,  with  Pat's 
vigilance,  pugnacity  and  shillalah  added,  was  also  ex- 
tremely hazardous  to  any  solicitous  friend  who  might 
call  to  enquire  who  was  dead,  I  determined  to  remove 
it.  1  thanked  Pat  for  his  services;  told  him  I  would 
not  require  them  further,  and  he  went  away. 

As  I  went  in,  I  tore  off  the  card  and  strips  of  grena- 
dine, stowed  them  in  the  parlor  grate,  and  sought  my 
couch  for  repose. 

I  dozed — slept — it  seemed  about  one  minute  seven- 
teen and  a  half  seconds — when  my  wife  stood  over  me 
pale  as  a  ghost,  holding  a  paper  toward  me — was  I 
dreaming — no — I  rubbed  my  drowsy  e3'es  open — look- 
ed again— she  spoke  in  a  scared,  tremulous  voice: 

"What,  for  mercy's  sake,  does  this  mean,  my  hus- 
band ?" 

I  reached  forth  my  hand  and  took  the  paper.  Hei?e 
it  is — it  was  saved  : 

"BuNKiMViLLE,  HoLV  Sahbath,  April  5,  1S68. 
"My  Dear   Bereaved  Sister: 

"The  Lord  giveth  and  the  Lord  taketh  away.  Blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord.  Look  to  Him  in  this  your  great  affliction. 
He  tempereth  the  wind  to  the  shorn  Iamb.  Although  the  de- 
parted hath  strayed;  notwithstanding  he  hath  hardened  his 
heart  and  banished  from  his  presence  the  persons  and  counsels 
of  the  wise  unto  salvation,  I  will  come  unto  thee,  poor  bereav- 
ed and  sorrow-stricken  soul,  and  commune  in  regard  to  the  cus- 
tomary religious  services  and  other  rites  due  to  a  fin^l  and 
Christian  disposal  of  his  mortal  remains.  I  will  call  after  tea. 
"Yours  in   Christ, 

"G.  F.   BONHAM,  D.  D." 


Il8  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

I  don't  like  to  abuse  the  Lord's  name  in  this  way. 
f    A. — "If  you  publish  Bonham's  note  to  your  supposed 
widow  to  show  his  sanctimonious  phraseology   as   the 
'livery  of  Heaven  stolen  to  serve  the  devil  in,'  then  its 
all  right." 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  do  mean.  In  explaining 
this  note  to  my  wife,  I  had  to  tell  her  of  the  badge  of 
mourning  I  had  so  unthoughtedly  stuck  in  front  of  the 
house;  but  I  was  at  a  dead  loss  to  conceive  how  Bon- 
ham  had  so  soon  acquired  this,  to  him,  certain  knowl- 
edge of  my  death.  I  was  not  surprised,  after  he  got 
the  flimsiest  shadow  of  a  rumor,  at  his  taking  it  for 
granted  that  I  was  dead,  and  acting,  as  usual,  promptly 
and  vigorously  on  the  fact;  hut  how  he  got  the  faint- 
est murmur  of  a  rumor,  was  astonishing.  The  only 
way  I  could  account  for  it,  was  a  belief  then,  which 
subsequent  observation  has  confirmed,  that  all  persons 
of  his  ilk,  are  ever  on  the  watch  for  something  bad  of 
their  neighbors,  and  have  a  secret  signal  method  of 
communication  that  beats  the  electric  telegraph  for 
swiftness.  T  only  told  ni\  wife  as  to  how  the  note 
came.  I  thought  that  was  enough  at  one  time;  I  re- 
served the  "driving  out  of  persons  and  counsels  of  the 
wise  unto  salvation,"  for  the  next  da\ .  She  went  to 
see  about  supper.  It  was  drawing  close  to  night.  I 
was  happy  in  the  thought  that  I  might,  possibly,  get 
to  slecj)  a  few  minutes  during  the  twelve  hours  of 
darkness.  I  was  so  completely  exhausteil  tlial  I  must 
have  slept  a  real  good  snooze  of  thirty-seven  or  eight 
seconds,  when  I  was  aroused  with  the  pleasant  inform- 
ation that  the  undertaker  had  arrived. 

Ilaines.^      Yes,  he    was    thi-   deniorratic    undertaker: 
his  claims,  at  least  to  audience,  could    not  be  sately  ig- 


END    OK    OUR    QUIET    SABKATH.  IKJ 

noicd.  Besides,  as  the  dead  animal  contractor  of  the 
party,  he  was  'round  lookin'  up  his  carcasses.  My 
wife  had  told  him  on  the  threshold  that  it  was  a  disa- 
greeahle  ( ?)  mistake ;  there  was  nobody  dead  in  the  house 
or  family.  She  couldn't  mislead  /lif/i.  He  insisted  on 
seeing  for  hin^self;  and  with  that  detective  shrewdness 
that  belongs  to  the  wily  politician,  he  forced  an  inter- 
view with  the  svipposed  corpse,  to  arrange  the  political 
wires  so  that  I  could  do  no  postmortem  electioneering 
with,  nor  bestow  an}'  posthumous  patronage  on  the 
opposition  undertaker. 

Here  was  a  serious  dilemma.  I  knew  I  should  lose 
his  vote  for  thus  deceiving  him  in  not  dying,  and  I 
couldn't  see  the  good  of  the  vote  if  1  hadn't  disap- 
pointed him. 

I  guess  other  politicians  have  been  similarly  situated. 
I  know  many  voters  want  you  to  do,  what  you  would 
die  before  you  would  do,  to  get  their  votes.  The  best 
I  could  do,  was  to  encourage  him  with  the  hope  of  fu- 
ture emoluments.  I  assured  him,  if  I  were  actually 
dead,  1  couldn't  forget  his  claims  on  the  party,  and 
would  certainly  secure  his  services  for  a  sound  demo- 
cratic funeral.  I  entreated  him  not  to  be  discouraged 
at  this  temporary  check:  that  some  other  applicant's 
loss,  might  be  his  gain,  for  if  I  couldn't  do  anything 
for  him  then,  I  should  probably  die,  trying  to  do  for 
hundreds  of  others,  hereafter,  and  then  he  could  come 
in.  Further,  I  would  speak,  anyhow  for  his  services 
on  the  day  following  the  election,  to  superintend  my 
political  obsequies. 

He  was  not  in  the  humor  to  joke.  He  walked  away 
with  the  trained  professional  dead  march  step,  saying, 
he  didn't  like  to  undertake  that  kind  of  a  job. 


I20  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

It  was  dusk.  I  took  a  cup  of  coffee  to  quiet  my 
.  aching  head.  Seated  myself  in  a  rocking  chair,  in 
the  sitting-room :  wondered  why  the  democratic  cor- 
oner and  his  democratic  jury  hadn't  called  to  hold 
inquest;  thought  he'd  hetter  hurry  or  there  would  not 
be  enough  of  the  cadaver  left  to  afford  a  basis  for  in- 
vestigation. I  supjDosed  the  sheriff  might  have  strained 
a  point  and  served  some  writs  on  me.  No  democratic 
commission  of  lunacy,  and  such  an  unprecedented 
interval  of  rest:  nearly  five  long  minutes.  I  began 
to  get  uneasy ;  something  must  have  happened  to 
two  or  three  hundred  of  my  democratic  friends — 
hark! — there  was  the  rattle  of  the  bell-wire. 

It  was  Mr.  Honore  called  to  learn  if  there  was  any- 
body dead  in  the  family.  He  lectured  me  on  practical 
joking;  I  explained;  told  him  I  would  run  for  the  office, 
dead  or  alive.  He  admired  my  pluck,  and  soon  left, 
like  a  sensible  man.  My  headache  was  excruciating; 
I  asked  my  wife  to  bathe  it  with  cold  water.  She 
placed,  barber  fashion  around  mv  neck,  a  piece  of 
white  goods,  to  save  my  clothing  from  wetting.  While 
she  was  pumping  the  water,  somebody  impatiently 
rattled  the  bell-wire.  Without  the  lamp,  I  hastily  an- 
swered the  call ;  not  thinking  of,  nor  caring  for  my 
shroud-like  vesture.  Jerking  open  the  door,  I  con- 
fronted— nf)  I  didn't — he  tumbled  backwards  off  the 
stoop,  with  a  horrified  crv,  "Lord  save  me,  sa-ve-m- 
me,"  and  rolling  over  and  <)\cr  till  he  reached  the  gate, 
sprang  over  it,  and  ran  for  life  down  street.  Who  was 
he?  I  returned;  my  wife  was  waiting,  and  reproved 
me  for  going  to  the  door  in  such  a  ghostly  garl). 

•'Who  was  it?"  she  asked. 


END    <)I'     OUK    QUIKT    SABBATH.  121 

"I  (lon't  know;  he  was  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  tell. 
It  was  somebody  that  took  me  for  a  ghost,  certain." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  was  Brother  Bonham;  he 
said  he'd  call  after  tea,  and  arrange  for  your  funeral," 
said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  tinge  of  humor, 

"Now  I  recollect,  it  certainly  was  the  brother;  'twas 
his  voice,  dress,  and  figure.  Well,  he  kept  his  w(M-d ; 
he  called.     Wasn't  that  the  wire  again?" 

"No,  1  hear  nothing,"  she  replied. 

After  my  head  bath,  I  felt  much  better.  Slei)t  in 
the  chair  several  minutes.  I  was  aroused  to  counscious- 
ness  this  time  by  the  repeated  screams  of  a  strange  fe- 
male voice.  I  started  up  in  my  chair;  my  wife  was 
cowering  near  me,  when  in  rushed  Miss  Slygroove, 
the  old  maid  of  the  neighborhood,  who  had  a  "talent" 
for  funerals,  (but  she  never  would  go  to  weddings;) 
screeching,  I  called  that: 

"Murder!  Fire!  Ghosts!  Robbers!  Save  me!"  at 
every  frantic  bound.  Rushing  into  our  startled  pres- 
ence, with  hair  stream — .  No!  she  had  been  scalped! 
sure.  I  never  sav\^  her  before  without  a  heavy  suit  of 
hair;  but  now  her  bare  poll  gleamed  with  the  sheen 
of  a  peeled  onion. 

"Why,  Miss  Slygroove,  what's  the  matter?"  asked 
my  wife. 

"Oh!  oh!  That  dreadful  wretch;  he  tried  to  kill 
me.  1  just  escaped  him  bv  losing  my  bonnet  — " 
reaching  up,  to  adjust  her  hair,  finding  it  gone,  she 
fainted  dead  away.  I  applied  restoratives,  but  she 
pushed  me  savagely  away.  My  wife  sent  me  away, 
till  there  was  an  improvised  coiffure.  When  her 
nerves  quieted  down  I  had  to  see  her  home,  a  few  rods 
away.  As  the  assassin,  who  had  cajDtured  all  the  head- 
— 16 


122  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

gear,  was  supposed  to  be  prowling  near,  we  went  by 
the  back  door,  the  way  she  came.  My  wife  lighted 
us.  When  near  the  gate,  I  saw  a  mass  on  the  walk 
about  the  size  of  a  Newfoundland  dog;  'twas  the  lost 
baggage ;  and,  stooping  to  pick  it  up,  we  both  tripped 
and  fell.  .She  yelled  "murder!"  and  floundered  around 
like  a  decapitated  chicken,  while  I  should  have  run  if 
mv  wife  hadn't  been  there  with  the  light.  All  was 
made  right.  The  despoiler  of  Miss  Slygroove  was 
that  same  bell-wire.  That  crushed-horn  visitor  had 
returned  at  night,  jerked  the  bell-pull,  fell  over  back- 
wards down  the  stoop,  and  revengefully  tied  the  knob 
end  to  the  trunk  of  an  evergreen,  just  high  enough  to 
snatch  a  jDerson  bald. 

Tired?     Let  me  say,  I  didn't  hear   another  word  of 
my  death  during  the  canvass. 

A. — We'll  rest  till  to-morrow  night. 


MONDAY    MOKNING. 


NIGHT  VIIL 


MONDAY    MORNING. 


I  had  tried  Mr.  Flannagan's  "rah  hafcstik"  to  my 
"badly  thrated  naws,"  and  the  neighboring  impHcated 
parts,  with  good  result.  I  presented  a  passable  ap- 
pearance the  next  morning.  I  felt  niuch  improved  in 
body  and  spirit;  had  been  interviewed  only  three  times 
before  breakfast,  and  acquitted  myself  in  a  more  con- 
ciliatory manner  than  on  the  preceding  day.  My  wife 
was  sorely  distressed  when  I  told  her  of  the  disagree- 
able interviews  with  Mr.  Goldman  and  the  minister. 
She  was  filled  with  awful  forebodings  of  the  direful 
effects  of  Mr.  Bonham's  wrathful  intluence.  I  tried  to 
explain  to  her  that  1  had  been  forced,  much  against 
my  will,  to  speak  harshly,  because  the  joreacher  had 
taken,  or  rather  mistaken  as  the  inherent  rioht  of  a 
clergyman,  the  privilege  of  insulting  me  in  my  own 
house.  It  was  no  use;  she,  like  most  people,  the  wo- 
men especially,  sided  with  the  preacher  on  that  foolish, 
and  often  injurious  assumption,  that  he  can  do  no 
wrong.  The  same  dogma  was  forced,  by  kingcraft, 
in  the  dark  ages,  on  ignorant  and  oppressed  subjects. 
I  seems  to  have  been  transferred  to  the  clergy.  How- 
ever, the  laymen  of  the  later  ecclesiastical,  like  the 
subjects  of  the  former  imperial  custodians  of  this  absurd 
prerogative,  have  learned,  long  before  this  time,  that 


124  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

the  royal  purple  nor  the  sanctified  surplice  are  always 
proof  against  the  allurements  of  sin. 

A. — "Don't  begin  a  chapter  with  that  mammoth 
moral  augur." 

I  will  not.  Let's  see.  Only  three  interviews  before 
breakfast.  I  felt  lonel}' — deserted.  Mrs.  Smith  was 
not  communicative.  We  had,  formally,  and  in  gloomy 
silence,  sat  down  to  breakfast.  So  far  as  I  was  con- 
cerned I  felt  a  strong  inclination  to  be  social;  would 
have  ventured  a  remark  or  two,  but  Mrs.  Smith's  aspect 
was  too  forbidding.  T  saw  directly  my  wife  wanted 
me  to  say  something;  then  I  wouldn't.  How  pettishly 
mean,  yes,  even  to  himself  astonishingly  mean,  a  man 
can  act  under  such  circumstances. 

Hark!  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door;  I  missed 
sorely,  the  rattle  of  the  old  bell-wire.  I  went  in  a 
hun  y  to  the  door,  where  a  smart  boy,  I  knew  to  be  in 
the  employ  of  Mr.  Honore,  handed  me  this  document. 
Here  it  is;  I  saved  it  with  all  other  original  communi- 
cations, as  per  his  advice: 

BUNKUM  VII.I.E  REPUBI-ICAN EXTRA. 

HONEST     JOHNNY     HACKS     DOWN! 

FLEES    FROM    TH1<:    WHATH    TO    COME!! 

FelJ   into    the    kamfs    of  the  /^//it/isti/ws  SatN?-day 

Night. — Not  enough  of  him  left  to  Run ! 

Re(]7iicseat  in   l^ace ! 

"We  leain  from  undoubted  democratic  authorit)-  tliat 
the  hon.  (?)  Dr.  John  Smith  has  declineil  tt)  run.  l^rom 
authentic  reports  of  .Saturday  night's,  and,  horrahile 
(//V///,  Sunday  nmrnlng's   ri'\t'lalions,   we   an-    not  sur- 


MONDAY    MORNING.  I  25 

prised  at  this  timely  withdrawal  of  the  Honoi'able   y. 
S.;    Vcrd,  sat^  sapy 

"Latkr. — Has  the  hoii.  j.  s.  hcen  to  see  the  sick  (?) 
man?  !!!" 

This  miserable,  dirty,  lying  emanation  from  what  I 
had,  hitherto,  considered  a  fair-dealing  adversary,  was 
endorsed  with  pencil,  in  the  bold,  honest  hand  of  my 
friend  I  Ion  ore: 

"Friend  John,  did  yon  anthorize  any  one  to  pnblish 
your  withdrawal?     Answer  forthwith  per  bearer. 

HONORE." 

1  hastily  re-endorsed — 

"No!     It's  an  enemy's  lie.  J.  S." 

The  messenger  had  got  as  lar  as  the  gate,  when  I 
heard  a  loud  cr\-  on  the  sidewalk.  Partly  re-opening 
the  tloor,  1  looked  out,  and  there  went  the  identical 
printer's  devil  whom  I  had  suspected  of  purloining  the 
Gay  note,  with  his  arms  full  of  extras,  bellowing  at 
the  top  of  his  voice: 

"'Ere's  Pudkin  Extra;  all  'bout  'scraceful  rite,  vi'la- 
tion  Sabbar  an'  'ithdrawal  of  J.  S.  Squire — 'Ere's  }er 
extra  nununer  two — Bribery  'n  Kruption!" 

He  yelled  louder  in  front  of  ni}'  honse  than  any- 
where else;  saw  mc  peering  through  the  interspace  of 
the  door  and  casing  at  him ;  placed  his  thumb  to  his 
nose  and  twirled  his  fingers  at  me,  the  little  abandoned 
reprobate;  and  throwing  a  batch  of  the  wretched  ex- 
tras over  into  in\-  front  yard,  went  on  )  elling,  his  voice 
growing  fainter  and  fainter,  till  it  died  away  in  the  dis- 
tance. Mv  ear  had  caught  the  words,  "bribery  and 
corruption."  What  could  it  mean?  There  was  noth- 
ing of  the  sort  in  the  extra  I  had  seen.  Could  this  be 
another?      Yes,  1   had   heard  the  words,  "luuiiber  two." 


J  26  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

Then  they  had  published,  this  early,  two  of  these  vil- 
lainous things!  I  must  see  ninnber  two;  guessed  it  to 
be  witli  the  batch  the  bo\^  threw  over  the  fence.  I 
hadn't  finished  breakfast,  was  not  dressed,  save  slippers, 
flaming  dressing  gown,  and  bare-headed;  it  was  early 
though;  yet  I  looked  up  street  and  down  street  with  an 
impulse  very  like  that  which  prompted  Moses,  when  he 
slew  the  Egyptian  and  hid  him  in  the  sand,  to  look  this 
way  and  that,  to  see  if  any  man  came;  I  rushed  down 
the  stoop,  into  the  yard;  seized  half  a  dozen  of  the  con- 
temptible things;  and  hastily  retreated  into  the  house, 
with  the  conflicting  feelings  of  a  man  who  had  just 
risked  his  life,  to  preserve  his  death  warrant  from  des- 
truction. 

Here's  the  identical  paper  I  saved,  of  tlie  several  I 
captured   in  that  sortie. 

REPUBLICAN    EXTRA,  NO.    3. 

HOW  IS  THIS?  ! 

WHY     IS    IT    T  H  U  S  L  Y  ?  !  ! 

LET  HONEST   JOHN     RISE    AND    EXPLAIN.'!! 

•DO.  JOHNNY  BOOKER,  DO!' 

IIKI.I'     DIS     NICCKK     VVn     TO    SHE    lUV    DIS. 

After  striking  off  our  first  Campaign  Extra  this  a. 
m.,  the  following  very  confidential  communication  was 
handed  to  us  In  oiu'  of  our  most  reliable  press  report- 
ers.    Comment  is  unnecessary: 

Sumiay,  April  41/1,  iSbS. 
Hon.  John  Smith. 

.S'lV.-     I  laki-  llu'  libcTty  to  state  to  you  tliat  if  you  wish  to 
1)L'  elected,  you  could  do  no  bellcr  than  secure  my  services.    All 


MONDAY    MORNINCi.  12'J 

tlic  boys  will  tell  you   I  am  very  innucntial.     Please  send  me 
that  $5,  five  dollars  and 

Oblige    Resp'ly. 


P.  S.     I  am  an  applicant  for  the  office  of  Street  Inspector, 
which,  of  course,  you  cannot  overlook. 

We  withhold  signature,  as  it  is  one  of  our  prominent 
citizens. — Ed." 

It  struck  nie  that  I  had  read  something  like  this  be- 
fore. Could  it  be  possible  that  this  was  the  Gay  note 
so  respectfully  dressed  that  I  could  not,  at  first,  recog- 
nize it?  No,  thought  I,  for  the  editor  stated  it  was 
handed  to  him  by  a  reliable  press  reporter.  Was  it  the 
devil  clothed  in  the  garb  of  a  reliable  press  reporter  for  a 
sinister  purpose?  Why  withhold  the  signature?  Was 
this  done  to  conciliate  the  dishonest  scamp  Gay,  and 
leave  the  slander,  to  attach  promiscuously,  or  specially, 
to  anyone,  or  all  of  my  political  friends?  Any  way, 
it  was  not  agreeable  to  be  misrepresented  in  this  aggra- 
vating manner.  I  began  to  get  in  a  bad  humor.  I 
stepped  into  the  parlor,  in  a  quandary  as  to  what 
course  to  pursue;  holding  the  batch  of  extras  in  one 
hand,  and  performing  the  ordinary  scratch  of  perplex- 
ity on^my  head  with  the  other — a  rustle:  enter  Mrs. 
Smith.  I  was  frightened  when  I  saw  her  expression. 
What  was  it,  there  was  no  dreadful  telegram  announc- 
ing the  death  of  her  mother — all  her  relations — may 
be  the  last  hatched  brood  of  spring  chickens  had  met 
disaster — or  some  sacrilegious  foot  had  trampled  the 
tulip  bed,  all  ec[ually  dreadful.  I  was  not  kept  long 
in  suspense.  Y  She  had  profited  by  the  extra  efforts  of 
the  devil  in  front  of  our  house,  and  making  a  sortie 
from  the  rear,  had  captured  the  remainder  of  the  ex- 


IZS  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

tras.     She   had   read  Nos.  one  and  two,  and,  woman 
like,  concluded  all  the  rest  were  different,  and  worse. 

"Disgraced!  Yes,  that's  the  word,  Mr.  Smith." 
She  began  in  a  measured  tragic  tone.  "Disgraced! 
And  all  for  this  everlasting  nomination.  To  think  you 
would  stoop  so  low  as  to  bargain  and  intrigue  with 
a  set  of  corrupt  men,  all  lor  a  few  votes.  Worse  than 
all,"  here  her  voice  became  tearful,  "that  drunken 
brawl  you  were  engaged  in  Saturday  night,  is  pub- 
lished all  over  the  United  States  by  this  time.  I  knew 
it  would  be  so,  and  any  sensible  man  ought  to  know, 
that  those  'forty  thieves,'  that  brought  you  home  as 
thev  did,  would  blow  you  to  the  four  winds  by  this 
time." 

"My  dear,  you  arc  too  sweeping  in  xour  denuncia- 
tion of  my  friends;  they  are  not  all  thieves.  You  are 
ex—" 

"Friends!  Friends!  Too  sweeping!"  she  con- 
tinued, hotly  indignant.  "If  I  had  a  besom  of  des- 
truction, I  would  waul  to  sweep  them  where  you 
would  never  find  them  again.  They  are  worse  than 
thieves.  They  betrayed  you  into  drunkeness,  riot  and 
all  sorts  cf  meanness,  and  if  you  want  to  excusje  them, 
you  can  do  it,  I  wont.     'Birds  of  a  feather.' " 

"My  wife,"  said  1,  "lliis  has  simj)!}-  been  an  unfor- 
tunate occurrence,  magnified  by  evil  minded  persons,  to 
injure  me  in  tliis  election.  !  can  make  great  allowance 
for  vonr  eagerness  in  di.  Ilnsc  of  vour  husband's  good 
name,  lint  just  now,  your  zeal  is  in  ad\  ancc  of  your 
discretion.  Please  (piiet  \ oursclf;  it  will  all  come  riglit 
in  time." 

"Don't  tell  me  it  will  e\er  all    he  right.      ^'ou  know 


MONDAY    MORNING.  1 29 

when  a  man  or  woman  is  once   slandered,  innocent  or 
not,  they  never  get  over  it'^ — she  truthfully  answered. 

It  hcgan  to  creep  through  my  dull  brain  that  I  had 
relied  too  much  on  mv  previous  good  name  to  carr\' 
me  through  this  ordeal.  Fact  is,  I  never  dreamed  that 
such  gross,  such  slanderous  misrepresentations,  could 
be  raised  out  of  such  trivial  matters.  I  was  feeling 
serious  about  the  turn  affairs  were  taking,  and  hoped 
the  worst  was  over,  when  I  was  startled  by  a  resound- 
ing knock  on  the  hall  door.  I  went  quickly  to  answer 
the  summons,  and  ushered  in  Herr  Frederick  William 
Ophcleide,  of  Frankfort-on-the-Oder,  with  his  mam- 
moth meerschaum  in  full  blast,  resembling  the  smoke- 
stack of  a  forty-ton  freight  locomotive  under  full  head- 
way. Following  closely  behind,  was  an  attenuated 
Teuton,  wearing  the  unmistakable  green  cap,  with 
front-piece  ample  enough  for  a  cow-shed,  underneath 
which  awning  was  a  huge  pair  of  green  goggles,  show- 
ing like  the  eyes  in  a  diver's  suit;  the  goggles  resting 
opj^ressively  on  a  nose  that  was  purple  from  indigna- 
tion, or  something  else;  said  nose,  in  its  turn,  well  sup- 
ported by  a  massive  yellow  mustache;  which  latter, 
for  length,  breadth  and  thickness,  was  a  marvel  of  hir- 
suite  exuberance.  It  might  aptly  be  called  a  predom- 
inant, domineering,  or  overwhelming  mustache;  for  it 
monopolized,  completely  overshadowed  the  mouth  and 
chin  below,  concealed  the  cheeks  by  its  defiant  flank 
extensions,  and  lifted  the  nose,  even  with  the  su- 
perimposed weight  of  the  goggles,  to  an  angle  of 
forty-five  degrees.  From  pressure,  above  and  below, 
the  nose  had  lost  in  longitude,  but  gained  proportion- 
ately in  latitude,  till  the  nostrils  were  broad  and  verti- 
cal; in  short,  that  nose  was  turned  up;  not,  perhaps,  at 
—  17 


130  JOHN   SMITH,   DEMOCRAT, 

the  odorous  suggestions  of  lager,  tobacco,  krout, 
onions,  nor  Limberger,  that  played  hide-and-seek  in 
the  fastnesses  of  that  mustache;  but  from  the  obvious 
fact,  that  it  had  not  strength  enough  "to  come  down 
on"  that  formidable  mustache. 

"Goot  morgan,  Meester  Herr  Smidt,  goot  morgan," 
blandly  began  Herr  Ophcleide.  "I  prings  mein 
freund — fren  you  sagen  all  der  zeit — das  vas  time  auf 
Englische.  Er  mit  kommen,  oder  dat  vas  coomed  mit 
mir.  Dis  est  Herr  Owgoost  Freederick  Wilhelm 
Trombone,  von  Noo  Yok  Seety,  nicht  mehr  oder 
more  lang  als  zwei — you  say  two  tree  wochen — week 
so!-huh!  so!  Sie  sehen  das  vas  you  sees — er  ist  vun 
vom  der  besten  moosisherns,  you  nennen — call  heem 
als  never  vas,  all  der  dime,  so!  huh!  so!" 

I  discovered  from  the  attitudes  and  gestures,  Mr. 
Ophcleide  was  introducing  Mr.  Trombone,  who  step- 
ped forward,  extending  his  left  hand  rather  straight 
from  the  shoulder,  which  I  was  on  the  point  of  shaking, 
wdien  I  discovered  my  mistake.  He  had  only  reached 
for  the  margin  of  that  front-piece  to  his  cap,  which 
securing,  he  then  formally  extended  his  right  hand, 
remarking — 

"I  am  verra  liappec  for  make  yure  frenship,  Meester 
Smidt." 

I  was  wide  awake  to  the  necessity  of  doing  some- 
tliing;  1  wanted  to  get  out  in  town;  wanted  to  see  and 
talk  In  the  j)eopk';  but,  liless  your  soul,  just  at  this 
tinu-  1  didn't  want  to  sec  Mr.  Ophcleide.  I  was  curi- 
ous, though,  to  know  what  brought  him.  1  soon 
learned,  through  his  interpreter,  Mr.  Trombone. 
When   seated,  1  asked  what   I   could   do;  lolil    them  I 


MONDAY    MORNING. 


131 


was  in  a  i^reat  hurry,  and  would  like  to  serve  them  as 
soon  as  possible. 

Mr.  Ophcleide,  seated  on  the  same  protestin*^-  sofa, 
had,  with  a  few  whilFs  at  his  volcanic  pipe,  gotten  up 
a  fair  representation  of  a  London  fog — except  the  smell. 
He  didn't  seem  at  all  in  a  hurry;  on  the  contrary,  look- 
ed as  though  he  had  taken  his  seat  for  the  day.  With 
a  dignified  wave  of  the  hand  to  Mr.  Trombone,  he 
said : 

"Sie  sprechen  Englische  besser  als  Ich;  vou  dalks 
mit  Herr  Schmidt  'bout  der  gondragdt." 

"Meester  Smidt,  I  vas  poor  moosisheen,  antl  haf  too 
make  mine  life,  so  long  as  I  live,  mil  iiioosik.  Vou 
tells  Ilerr  Ophcleide,  you  say  so,  go  py  der  peer  car- 
ten  and  blay  goot  moosik  mit  der  prass  pan,  t'or  make 
my  election."  Here  Mr.  Trombone  paused  a  moment, 
then  resuming — "Das  vas  Soonday,  and  ve  blay  all  der 
time  plenty  good  moosik,  and  you  say  to  Meester  Oph- 
cleide dat  he  comes  dees  mornin'  for  hees  pay,  de  mon- 
ey— and  we  comes." 

"There  must  be  some  mistake,  gentlemen.  I  didn't 
make  any  arrangement  or  contract  with  Mr.  Ophcleide 
to  furnish  music  at  the  beer  garden,  I  replied,  rather 
astonished." 

At  this  Mr.  Ophcleide,  straightening  uj)  with  a  sur- 
prised expression,  and  removing  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth,  rather  exclaimed : 

"So!  Huh!  So!  Herr  Schmidt,  sie  sagen  oder  you 
auf  de  Englische,  say  you  sie  machts  nicht  der  gon- 
dragt?" 

And  in  a  raised  tone  he  continued — 

"I  makes — kein  vas  sie  nennen — call   heem  arrauire- 


132  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

ments,  aber  ein  gondragdt;  vat  you  spachen  mir — 
oder  vas  you  sait  py  mir — ven  I  say  shoost  so  pout 
Shones — he  vas  no  goot — no  pv  moosic — und  Ich — 
oder  I  shoost  coomed  py  Herr  Schmidt,  und  vat  vas 
dot  vas  you  say  oder  sagen — py  mir  pv  tam?  Sic  oder 
you  say  Tah  !  Das  vas  all  der  zeit — der  time  vas  sie 
sprechen  mit  mir,  sait  to,  vas  you  nennen  heem,  unt  I 
say  dat  you  vas  von  goot,  von  fell  von  a  heller,  und 
Shones  vas  Spitzboobie — unt  den  sie,  oder  you  shoost 
als  von  leetle  man,  vat  vas  das  3-ou  sav — pv  tam — you 
schust  say  Yah  all  der  dime,  unt  dies  zeit — dies  time 
30U  schust  say  nein ;  vas  you  call  dot?" 

Mr.  Ophcleide's  voice  was  loud  enough  in  its  softest 
•  tones  for  a  stump  speaker  in  a  riot,  but  at  the  conclu- 
sion of  this  lucid   explanation  of  the  "kondraght,  that 
I  never  dreamed  of  making,  it  was  in  volume  and  tone 
equal  to  a  sea  captain's  trumpet  in  a  storm. 

"Mr.  Smidt,  you  vill  no  sheet  der  poor  moosisheen?" 
And  Mr.  Trombone  gave  me  a  piteous  look  and 
wiped  the  moisture  from — one  eye  of  his  goggles — 
while  each  emphatic,  vindictive  whiff  Mr.  Ophcleide 
gave  his  huge  pipe,  popped  like  a  champaign  cork.  I 
saw  the  latter  gentleman  was  preparing  to  fire  another 
volley,  with  increased  energy;  saw  the  painful  though 
desperate  cflTort  he  was  making  to  "wreak  his  thoughts 
upon  expression,"  and  taking  advantage  of  the  lull, 
told  them,  with  the  last  particle  of  good  humored  pa- 
tience that  I  could  squeeze  out  of  my  better  nature, 
that  there  was  some  mistake,  sonu-  misunderstanding. 
That  I  wished,  any  li<>\v,  to  postpone  the  settlement 
of  the  mattci"  to  some  otlicr  time  and  ]ilace;  for  I  could 
hear  my  wife  walking  uneasily  in  the  hall.  Rising 
from  my  seat  T  told  Mr.  Ophcleide  I  would  sei-  him  at 


MONDAY    MORNING.  1 33 

my  office  at  ten  o'clock,  where  T  would  give  him  full 
satisfaction.  This  last  word  was  unfortunate,  because 
Mr.  Ophcleide,  according  to  the  common  American 
acceptation  of  the  word,  took  it  that  I  had  challenged 
him  to  mortal  combat.  This  I  inferred  from  his  con- 
cluding remarks,  and  got  confirmation  afterwards: 

"Meester  Johannes  Schmidt," — the  Herr  was  now 
ready  to  go — "you  das  vas  sie-macht  sclagdt-oder  fite 
mit  mir,  den  Ich  fite  nicht  mit  der  tam  pistolen  aber 
ein  goot — vas  sie  nennen  swort,  I  sees  you  all  der  dime, 
unt  I  schust  pet,  py  tam,  Ich  vill  make  you  gone  so 
(let  als  you  never  vas  pefore.  I  sehe,  oder  sees  dot 
marshall,  und  der  shudge,  mit  der  law,  py  ihnen,  oder 
you,  und  den  you  bays  der  gondragdt  py  ter  prass  pan, 
und  Ich  denke — thinks  ein  man  vat  vas  nicht  der  sfon- 
dragdt  bay,  vas  nicht  so  goot  als  er  never  vas.  So! 
huh!  so!  Coom,  Herr  Tromboorn,  nichts  cum  daraus 
von  Herr  Schmidt.     Hon-o-rabble — Pfui!   Pfui!" 

I  did  not  understand  all  Mr.  Ophcleide  said.  I  did 
comprehend  his  going,  and  was  glad,  I  opened  the 
parlor  windows  wide  this  time;  sat  down  a  moment  in 
the  murky  gloom,  and  felt  like  I  was  unfortunate. 

"Hello!  Doctor!" 

Looking  through  the  dense  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke, 
in  the  direction  of  the  voice,  I  indistinctly  saw  the  face 
of  a  neighbor,  with  a  frightened  expression,  peering 
in  one  of  the  open  windows.  "Come  in,  Charley. 
What's  the  matter?"  He  coughed  and  sneezed,  and 
answered — 

"Oh,  no!  Ilav-havirt  time.  Saw  the  smoke  roll- 
ing out  the  windows,  and  (cough)  ahem,  and  thought 
(atchee)  the  house  was  on  iire,  (atchce-oo)  it's  tobacco 
smoke,  ain't  it?" 


134  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Yes,  a  highly  concentrated,  a  condensed  article, 
most  too  solid  for  smoke." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  It  does  strike  one  so.  Arn't  you 
afraid  a  slight  change  in  the  temperature  will  precipi- 
tate a  shower  of — ambier?"  quizzed  Charley. 

"Yes,  and  lager  beer,  too." 

"I  heard  this  mornmg  you  had  declined  to  run ;  is  it 
so?" 

"No;  though  I  feel  like  running  anywhere  to  es- 
cape the  canvass.  Come  in,  and  cheer  me  up,"  I  said, 
willing  to  sacrifice  the  remainder  of  my  breakfast  to 
chat  a  few  moments  with  as  lively  a  companion  as 
Charley. 

"Havn't  time;  must  go.  Just  in  time;  here  comes  a 
messenger  to  the  front.  Good  morning;"  and  the 
light-hearted  Charley  was  gone. 

I  answered  the  knock;  was  handed,  by  a  neatly 
dressed  boy,  a  neatly  addressed  envelope,  evidently 
from  a  lady.  The  boy  remarked  that  I  could  answer 
through  the  P.  O.  or  in  person,  and  went  his  way. 
The  note  I  found   in  the  envelope,  ran  thus: 

"BuNKUMViLi.E,   April  6th,   1868. 
Dr.  J.  Smith: 

"I  have  always  regarded  you  as  a  high-niiiuieti,  honora- 
l)lc'  and  generous  man;  one  who  would  scorn  a  mean  act.  Hold- 
nig  still  this  opinion  of  you,  I  await  an  explanation  to  determine 
whether  or  not  I  liave  hitherto  been  correct  in  my  favorable  es- 
timate of  your  character.  The  explanation  will  be  a  satisfac- 
tory answer  to  the  cjuestion :  Did  you  circuliitt'  a  report,  or 
assert  that  I  sent  jou  yestciday,  Sunday,  a  note  soliciting  a 
teacher's  position  in  the  city  Free  School.'  1  am  sorely  dis- 
tressed at  the  idea  that  I  should  be  so  injuriously  misrepresent- 
ed by  soiiir  our;  imil  my  anxiety  to  rectify  this  mistake  must 
be  my  excuse  for  thus  addressing  you. 

Tridy    voiu-   friend, 

F.\NMK    G.\Y." 


MONDAY      MORNING.  1 35 

A. — "John,  a  genuine  lady  wrote  that  note." 
"You  are  altogether  correct.     She  was  truly  a  lady, 
but  being  poor,  was    the  legitimate   prey   of  ignorant, 
tattling  shoddyists." 

A. — "Didn't  you  defend  her  against  their  attacks?" 
"To  the  fullest  extent  of  all  that  was  virtuous  and 
noble  within  me,  vigorously  exerted,  I  did." 
A. — "Well  said ;  better  done.  Go  on." 
"Flees  the  wrath  to  come!"  vide  Rep.  Extra  No.  i. 
Suggestive;  isn't  it?  I  could  scarcely  bear,  so  far,  the 
complicate  net  of  aggravating,  exaggerated  misrepre- 
sentations that  mv  male  friends  (?)  had  woven  around 
me;  but  I  thought  if  the  women  were  going  to  or- 
ganise a  crusade  on  me,  thus  trammelled,  it  would  be 
wise  to  act  on  the  hint,  though  malicious,  of  Extra 
No.  1,  and  verily  "Flee  the  wrath  to  come."  Who 
could,  or  would  have  told  that  good,  innocent  girl  such 
a  story?  Could  it  have  been  the  ragmuffin  of  a  boy, 
who  brought  the  Gay  note,  and  because  I  didn't  "cend 
5$  dullers"  walked  surlily  away  muttering,  "Fll  jis 
bet  noodles  pap'll  wax  'im  out'n  his  boots"?  Could  it 
have  come  to  her  ears,  indirectly,  through  the  devious 
ingenuity  of  the  deviltry  of  the  parties  into  whose 
hands  the  purloined  note  had  fallen?  You  see  by  this 
time,  I  had  come  to  the  correct  conclusion,  that  the 
"Bribery  and  Corruption"  note  published  iuExtraNo. 
2,  and  the  missing  Gay  note,  were  the  same;  except 
the  latter  had  been  dressed  into  the  respectability  of 
the  former,  to  reap  the  benefit  of  good  appearances; 
thus  creating  the  impression,  that  any  one,  male  or  fe- 
male, of  my  political  friends,  might  have  written  the 
note.  Now,  there  was  nothing  so  far  as  the  girl  was 
concerned,  but  the  simple   fact  that  her  name  was  Ga}-, 


136  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

but  she  belonged  to  a  difierent  family,  not  at  all  rela- 
ted to  that  of  the  writer  of  that  note.  This  sameness 
of  name  was  all  that  was  wanted  by  that  same  devious 
ingenuity  of  deviltry,  to  convey  the  preposterous  idea 
that  the  girl  wrote  such  a  note. 

A. — "Oh  John,  that's  hardly  possible." 

Undei  ordmar\  cncumstances,  I  think  so  too;  but 
in  a  political  campaign,  nothing  is  easier  than  a  strained 
effort  of  scoundrelism,  to  hatch  out  entirely  improb- 
able inferences.  These  questions  or  reflections  passed 
quicker  through  mv  mind  than  I  have  been  recount- 
ing them.  I  was  getting  my  eyes  open.  The  fact 
that  mv  wife  had  mistaken  the  source  and  purport  of 
the  note,  recurred.  Could  she  have  said  any  thjng? 
No!  No!  I  was  confident  she  hadn't.  She  did  not 
gossip.  Even  if  she  did,  she  had  had  no  chance,  be- 
cause she  had  not  been  out  of  the  yard,  nor  had  any  of 
her  lady  friends  been  in  the  house  since  the  reception 
of  the  note,  and — 

"'Ere's  yer  Bunk'vill  Dcm'crat  Extra — all  'bout  lies 
an'  sich  on  Hon'ble  John  Smith!" 

What  could  this  mean?"  It  fell  on  my  ears  like  the 
music  of  an  old  forgotten  favorite  song.  Was  any- 
bodv  going  to  sav  a  word  in  favoi^  of  John  Smith.'' — 
vindicate  his  honor?  1  fairly  rushed  to  the  door  to 
drink,  greedily  in,  the  sound  of  the  gla<l  tidings;  beck- 
oned excitedly  to  the  boy;  remarked  agitatedly,  here's 
a  (juarter;  felt  hurriedly  in  my  j^ockets,  and  ditln't  lind 
a  cent;  seized  an  Extra  frantically;  glanced  eagerly 
over  the  heading;  while  the  bov  glanced  ([ui/.zically  at 
my  heading  with  a  dubious  grin  that  said  plainly  enough, 
'doubt  about  'em  bein'  lies ;'  hesitated  for  his  quarter,  and 
then — went  on — without  hallooing,  in  my  liearing,  an- 


MONDAY      MORNING.  1 37 

Other  whoop,  "All  'bout  the  lies  an'  sich  on  Hon'ble 
John  Smith." 

I  stepped  nimbly  into  the  parlor  and  read,  with 
more  satisfaction  than  I  had  felt  for — could  it  be  only 
"thirty  hours — it  seemed  like  a  year's  imprisonment,  the 
Extra  Democrat. 

Followinj^  Mr.  Honorc's  advice,  I  have  lumbered 
up  an  entire  room  with  what  people  call  unimportant 
papers.  Here's  that  cheering  Extra;  you  may  be  sure 
I  preserved  it: 

"BUNKUMVILLE    DEMOCRAT    EXTRA. 

JOHN  SMITH  DOES  NOT  DECLINE! 

HE  IS  AN  HONEST  MAN  AND  MUST  BE  ELECTED ! 

Air.  Editor :  My  attention  has  been  called  to  an 
Extra  from  the  office  of  the  opposite  party,  stating,  on 
assumed  reliable  Democratic  authority,  that  John 
Smith  has  declined  to  make  the  race  for  Mayor;  also 
sundry  intimations  that  the  candidate  had  better  "Flee 
the  wrath  to  come."  Further,  by  way  of  P.  S.,  and  to 
set  inventive  malice  to  work,  it  asks  the  question,  "Has 
J.  S.  been  to  see  the  sick  man  yet?"  In  answer  to  the 
first  statement,  that  Mr.  Smith  has  declined,  I  will  say,  it 
is  wholly  untrue,  as  I  have  his  own  statement  in  writ- 
ing to  the  contrary.  The  sick  man  must  make  a 
prompt  and  honest  recovery,  or  get  decidedly  worse, 
of  another  affliction,  after  the  election. 

Yrs.  Honorably, 

Earnest  Honore." 

The  Lord  bless  such  a  man!  1  was  boyishly  happy; 
with  the  thankfulness  of  an  innocent  victim  who  had 
been  rescued  from  a  murderous  mob.  I  bore  this  Ex- 
tra triumphantly  to  my  wife;  who,  b\'  the  rapid  accu- 
mulation of  horrors,  had  been  crushed  into  a  taciturn 
—  iS 


138  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

gloom  that  had  the  effect  of  a  funeral  in  the  house. 
She  read  it  and  looked  some  brighter.  I  told  her,  for 
I  felt  elated,  lifted  up,  "as  it  were,"  from  "the  valley  of 
humiliation" — that  I  must  dress  and  go  to  the  office; 
it  was  near  nine  o'clock.  With  her  aid  (for  the  wo-* 
man  was  much  encouraged,  and  occasionally  rejDcated 
the  head  line  of  the  extra,  "John  Smith  is  an  honest 
man,")  I  made  a  much  better  appearance  than  could 
be  expected  under  the  circumstances.  All  ready,  I 
started  to  sally  forth;  when  recollecting  the  note  from 
Miss  Gay,  and  desiring  to  disabuse  my  wife's  mind, 
and  add  to  her  improved  feehngs,  and,  I  must  admit, 
to  reinstate  John  Smith  from  his  fallen  estate  in  her 
confidence,  I  took  the  note  from  my  pocket,  and  hand- 
ing it  to  her,  simply  asked  her,  if  she  could  account  for 
such  a  communication?  Quick  as  a  flash  the  placid 
smile  left  her  face,  and  was  followed  by  a  look  of  dis- 
tress. 

"Why,  my  dear,  that  is  proof  conclusive  she  did  not 
write  the  lost  note  you  construed  so  erroneously.  It 
was  the  same  note  you  read  in  that  outrageous  Extra 
No.  2,  so  respectably  dressed  that  the  author  himself 
w^ould  not  recognize  it,  even  if  his  signature  had  been 
appended,  which  was  not  done,  to  leave  the  injurious 
inference  that  any  of  my  friends  might  have  written  it, 
and  to  conciliate  the  scamp,  John  Gay.  He  it  was 
who  wrote  it.  Now,  do  you  think,  comparing  the 
two  notes,  that  the  same  person  wrote  them  ?  Of 
course  not." 

"No — I — don't,"  she  answered  meditatively,  and  re- 
suming in  an  animated  lone,  "I'll  bet  my  life  that  long- 
tongued  woman  has  told  every  word  — " 


MONDAY      MORNING.  1 39 

"What  long-tongued  woman?"  I  interrupted ;  "you 
havn't  been  out  gossiping?" 

"Gossiping?  No,  sir,  I  don't  gossip,"  she  spiritedly 
answered,  "you  know  I  havn't  set  my  foot  out  of  this 
house  since  you  got  that  everlasting  nomination." 

"But  how  is  it?  What  long-tongued  woman?"  and 
she  hesitating,  I  continued,  "I  don't  think  you've  been 
out  of  the  yard,  and  if  you  had  been  all  over  town  1 
should  not  think  you  would  divulge  your  erroneous 
suspicions  of  your  own  husband's  shortcomings. 

Here  she  seemed  vexed  to  tears.  Her  confidence 
had  been  betrayed. 

A. — "Unusual  occurrence,  ain't  it,  John?" 

"Not  very  'frequently.'  My  wife  told  me  she  was 
in  the  garden  late  the  preceding  afternoon,  when  one 
of  our  neighbors,  of  the  rat-eyed,  sharp-nosed  species, 
called  her  to  the  fence,  asked  about  so  man}-  men  com- 
ing to  our  house,  Sunday,  too;  were  they  sick?  she 
wanted  to  seem  innocent  like.  She  talked  some  time, 
and  said  in  a  joke  (?)  that  if  she  was  Mr.  Smith  she'd 
be  jealous;  and  I,  said  my  wife,  foolishly,  but  also  in  a 
joke,  told  her  I  thought  I  ought  to  be  jealous,  as  the 
ladies  had  already  began  to  write  to  vou.  Then  she 
wormed  out  of  me  all  I  knew  about  the  matter,  and 
said,  almost  going  into  conniptions,  that  she  never, 
never  saw  the  beat  of  the  impudence  of  some  girls. 
Then  she  said  the  same  Miss  Gay  had  run  her  shoe- 
heels  off  after  Mr.  Watson,  when  he  was  mayor,  so 
Mrs.  W.  had  told  her.  "And  to  think,"  my  wife  con- 
cluded, "that  the  mean  thing  told  me  she'd  take  a  Bible 
oath  that  she'd  never,  never  breathe  a  syllable  of  it  to 
any  living  soul,  and  now  I'll  risk  my  life  she's  told  it 
all  over  Bunkumville." 


140  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"Undoubtedly,"  I  gravely  replied,  "and  ten  times 
more  a  hundred  fold  worse.  Cheer  up,  though;  I 
must  go,  but  hereafter  when  you  wish  to  publish  any 
hint,  surmise,  or  direct  statement,  that  you  do  not  want 
more  than  half-believed,  and  that  you  do  not  want  to 
grow  into  proportions  that  will  astonish  you,  please 
write  it  out  and  send  it  to  the  papers.  Then  you  have 
it  somewhat  under  control;  but  on  the  other  hand,  if 
vou  wish,  on  the  smallest  possible  investment,  to  reap 
the  largest  possible  results,  good  or  bad,  then  the  gen- 
tlest whisper  in  the  ear  of  such  a  woman,  under  the 
injunction  of  inviolate  secrecy,  will  bring  you  in  return 
a  tornado  of  slander,"  With  these  remarks  I  left  Mrs. 
Smith,  and  went  up  town. 

A. "This  is  already  too  long — let's  close  till  to-mor- 
row night." 


"Good, 


11 


MEETS    A    WARM     RECEPTION.  I4I 


NIGHT  IX. 

YE  CANDIDATE  MEETS  A  WARM  RECEPTION. 

On  my  way  down  town  I  met  Mr.  J.  Gay  coming, 
he  said,  to  see  me.  I  was  not  personally  acquainted 
with  him. 

"Good  mornin',  Mr.  Smith;  I  was  thinkin'  of  going 
to  see  you,  an — " 

I  interposed  a  salutation,  and  remarked  that  I  be- 
lieved his  name  was  Gay — when  he  resumed — 

"Yes,  sir,  that's  my  name,  an'  I  think  you  havn't 
done  the  clean  thing  by  me,  Mr.  Smith,  if  you  air  a 
big  man,  so  I  do,  and  all  the  boys  says  so — an' — " 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir,"  I  interrupted,  bristling  up 
to  him  with  a  pugilistic  determination;  for  I  was  mad, 
and  such  fellows  take  license  from  toleration,  and  grow 
terribly  abusive,  unless  promptly  checked.  He  eyed 
me  a  moment,  taking  my  measure,  (six  feet  two)  then 
modifying  his  tone  and  mien,  continued — 

"Yer  oughn't  ter  give  me  away  to  the  newspapers, 
like  you  did,  jist  because  I'm  a  poor  man,  as  works 
hard  fer  an  honest  livin'.  I  was  goin'  to  do  a  good 
part  by  you,  as  all  the  boys  will  tell  yer;  an' if  yer 
wouldn't  let  a  poor  man,  as  works  fer  a  livin',  have  jist 
the  little  mite  o'  five  dullers,  you  oughter  kep  mum 
'bout  the  note." 


142  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Mr.  Giiy,"  I  answered,  "you  seem  to  take  a  straight- 
forward, business  view  of  this  affair.  You  have  been 
educated  to  this,  and  I  presume  it  has  been  customary 
at  every  election.  Therefore,  I  don't  blame  you  so 
much,  but  your  preceptors  more.  I  will,  for  your  sat- 
isfaction, tell  you,  first,  that  I  did  not  give  you  away  to 
the  papers.  Your  note  was  stolen,  or  picked  up  in  my 
house  by  a  boy,  and  designing  persons  published  it  to 
injure  me  and  my  friends.  Your  name  is  not  on  the 
printed  note.  Secondly,  I'll  tell  you  what  you  have 
been  educated  to  disregard  :  that  it  is  morally  wrong 
to  pay  money  for  such  purposes." 

"All  the  other  cand'ates  done  it,  an'  nobody  know'd 
anything  'bout  it,  an'  they  got  'lected,"  was  his  stolid 
reply. 

"Well,  Mr.  Gay,  if  I  can't  get  the  votes  of  my  po- 
litical friends  without  paving  for  them,  let  them  sell 
out  to  some  other  man,  I  don't  want  them.  I'm  in  a 
hurry.     Good  morning,"  and  I  left  abruptly. 

I  knew  he  wished  to  compromisingly  terminate  the 
interview;  I  could  well  imagine  his  comments  on  my 
unheard  of  conduct.  I  must  say,  I  did  pity  him  some. 
He  was  only  one  of  tlic  thousands  of  the  present  day, 
doing  his  dut\-  in  the  way  he  was  brought  up;  carry- 
ing out,  faithfully,  his  part  in  the  spoliation  of  candi- 
dates; and  I  must  be  excused  if  I  did  think  it  was  hard 
then,  and  1  think  it  would  be  harder  now,  to  so 
cniellv  witlihuld  the  wages  of  a  "poor  man  who  makes 
his  li\in'  1)\   honest  work," 

"'Ere's  yer  Ex.  Mon.  Pudkin,  Num'r  3 — all  'bout 
legal  s(jual(ications  of  IIf)n'ble  J.  vS.  'l^iclers  Pendin' 
Jewel,  aiT  elscteray  an'  s'forth.'''' 

Yes,  there  he  went,  that  same  ubii|uitous  little  devil, 


MEETS  A  WARM    RECEPTION.  I43 

that  I  began  to  dread  as  much  as  sinners  fear  the  or- 
thodox Beelzebub.  He  was  passing  ahead  on  a  cross- 
ing street;  yelled  louder  when  he  saw  me,  and  stoop- 
ing down,  he  defiantly  placed  one  of  the  Extras  ex- 
actly in  my  path;  then  carefully  putting  a  pebble  on  it, 
he  raised ;  went  through  the  same  manouvre  of  plac- 
ing his  thumb  on  his  nose  and  twirling  his  fingers  at 
me;  quickly  darting  off  down  the  street,  whooping  like 
a  Sioux  Indian,  at  every  jump.  Oh,  i  felt  like  boxing 
his  ears  then.  Now,  that  kind  of  conduct  from  the 
boys  is  praiseworthy.  I  suppose  I  would  now,  accord- 
ing to  custom,  give  him  a  quarter,  and  double  the 
money  if  he  would  go  and  do  the  same  thing  to  my 
political  opponent.     The  Extra  you  want?   Here  it  is: 

"republican  extra,  no.  3. 

HONEST  JOHNNY  GETS  BLOODTHIRSTY! 

AND  PAYS  (?)  HIS  BILLS  WITH    CODE  DUELLO! 

We  published  this  a.  m.,  in  first  edition,  what  we 
believed  from  reliable  authority,  that  John  Smith  had 
declined  to  run.  That  has  since  been  denied.  We 
scorn  to  misrepresent  the  facts.  The  contents  of  No. 
2  may  have  injured  J.  S.  We  don't  like  to  hurt  pious 
men;  but  how  about  poor,  honest  laborers  approached 
by  Johnny  with  a  cool  five  dollar  bill,  and  a  cooler 
proposition  of  bribery  and  corruption!  All  this  may 
be  what  Johnny's  champion  calls  misrepresentation; 
but  how  about  the  following  affidavit? 

STATE  OF  ILLINOIS.  ) 

MULCTALLIN    CoUNTY.       ) 

Personally  appeared  before  me, 
at  my  office  in  the  city  ot  Bunkumville,  County  and  State  afore- 
said, Frederick  William  Ophcleide  and  August  Frederick  Wil- 


144  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

Ham  Trombone,  residents  of  County  and  State  aforesaid,  who 
being  duly  qualified,  depose  and  say,  that  one  John  Smith  did, 
this  day,  April  6th,  A.  D.  1868,  at  his  residence  on  south  Broad 
street,  in  said  city,  challenge  to  mortal  combat  the  said  Fred- 
erick William  Ophcleide.  Further,  the  deponents  say,  that  the 
said  John  Smith  did  then  and  there  fix  and  name  the  time  and 
place  wherein  and  whereat  the  satisfaction,  according  to  the 
code  duello,  should  be  rendered,  to-wit:  at  the  office  of  said  J. 
Smith,  at  the  hour  of  10  a.  m.  this  day. 

Signed, 
Fritz  Willhelm  Ophcleide,  [l.  s.] 

August  Fritz  Willhelm   Trombone.        [l.  s-] 

Sworn  to  and  subscribed  before  the  undersigned,  V.  Mean, 

acting  Justice  of  the  Peace,  for  and  in  the  County  and  State 

aforesaid,  at  his  office  in  the  city  of  Bunkumville,  this  6th  day 

of  April,  A.  D.  1868. 

Signed, 

V.  MEAN, 

Justice  of  the  Peace. 

If  Johnny  hasn't  with(havvn,  we  would  state  to 
our  numerous  friends  to  let  him  alone.  We  learn  that 
Herr  Ophcleide  was  a  sword  master  in  the  Prussian 
army  for  several  years;  and  in  the  settlement  of  this 
bill  for  music  furnished  on  Mr.  Smith's  account  at  the 
beer  garden,  yesterday,  Sunday !  Mr,  Ophcleide  has 
the  choice  of  weapons.  So  let  Johnny  alone.  He's 
o-oin<r  to  run  first  for  the  coroner  or  undertaker.  If 
his  defunct  party  wish  to  run  the  corpse,  all  right;  it 
will  make  as  good  an  officer  as  their  average  officials. 
—Ed." 

When  I  read  this,  I  was  madder;  especially  at  the 
editor's  remarks.  I  shuddered  at  their  cold-blooded  re- 
pulsiveness.  Was  it  possible  that  any  newspaper  man 
would  lower  himself  so  much  as  to  publisli  such  a 
thing,  without  knc^wing  any  more  than  Ik-  could  get 
out  of  that  bliMidcring    fool,  Ophcleide?      1    could    un- 


MEETS    A    WARM     RECEPTION.  I45 

dcrstanci  that  Mr.  O.  would  likcl}'  tell  a  few  friends 
that  I  had  made  a  "gondragdt"  for  the  services  of  the 
band,  and  refused  to  pay;  I  could  also  comprehend, 
that  in  his  anger,  after  I  had  told  him  I  did  not  agree 
to  pay  him  any  thing,  it  was  extremely  probable  that 
he  would  go  straight  to  his  particular  friends,  and  tell 
them  that  I  had  challenged  him  to  fight  a  duel;  he 
having  taken  the  ordinary  acceptation  of  giving  satis- 
faction in  this  country,  as  meaning  to  fight,  and  noth- 
ing else.  However,  with  all  this,  I  had  every  reason 
to  suppose  that  somebody  would  disabuse  the  mind  of 
the  unfortunately  mistaken  German.  Yet,  to  think  then, 
to  know  even  now,  that  there  were  then,  and  there  are 
now  many  people  mean  enough  to  take  advantage  of  his 
misapprehension,  and  to  seriously,  injuriously  encour- 
age, or  to  dupe  him,  to  further  their  political  ends, 
was  then,  and  is  now,  aggravating  to  contemplate. 

I  hurried  on  to  my  office,  with  feelings  near  akin  to 
those  ascribed  to  me  in  Extra  No.  3,  to-wit:  "Blood- 
thirsty." There  was  quite  a  crowd  around,  and  near 
my  office  door.  It  seemed  to  be  mainly  composed  of 
Germans;  talking  excitedly  among  themselves.  I 
could  hear"Herr  Ofklite  andHerr  Schmidt"  frequently 
mentioned,  but  could  not  understand  any  other  words 
they  used.  You  know  how  a  crowd  of  excited  Ger- 
mans can  talk.  A  few  paces  from  the  office  I  was 
met  by  Mr.  Flannagan,  with  his  shillalah,  and  a  look 
that  meant  business. 

"Tap  'p  the   morerning,  yer  hancr,  an'  I  w^aited  fur 
yez  this  lang  toime,  thinkin'    mebbe   it  was  not  hilthy 
fur  yez,  all  alone,  by   yersilf,  to  happen  into  thit    mab 
o'  blatherin  krout  aters,  at  all,  at  all,"  said  Pat. 
—  19 


146  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"W}',  Mr.  Flannagan,  what  do  they  want?    What's 

the  matter?" 

"Och,  an'  bHss  the  sowl  av  yer  haner,  the  virra  onld 
Nack  is  ter  play  iver  sin  yez  chilHnged  that  bare-swil- 
lin,  horrun-tootin'  bag  o'  wind,  Affcleed.  Its  mesilf  as 
galories  in  yer  spoonk,  an'  barrin  the  differince  twixt 
yer  haner  an'  a  plain  Irish  laddie  loike  mesilf,  I'd  give 
ivera  toime  a  twelve  months'  airnings  intirely  that  yer 
haner  would  bay  so  condescindin'  as  to  allow  Pathe- 
rick  Flinnigan  to  tak  the  foight  afF'n  yez  hands;  thin 
if  it  bay  so  thit  yer  haner  can't  do  so  much,  to  let 
me  stind  as  yer  sickond,  an'  if  it  ba  so  yez  can't  do  me 
so  ghrate  a  favor,  thin  let  me  stan'  as  yez  thoord ;  if  so 
be  there's  inny  sich — inny  ways,  put  Mr.  Flinnigan 
where  he  can  taich  thim  bloody  musicianers  how  this 
silf-same  insthrument  is  jDlaycd" — and  Mr.  Flannagan 
brandished  his  shellalah  scientifically. 

I  saw  the  situation  at  a  glance.  From  the  boister- 
ous language  and  excited  gesticulations  of  the  crowd, 
I  was  aware  that  there  was  not  only  combustible,  but 
very  explosive  material  there ;  while  the  eager,  abso- 
lutely "spilin'  for  a  muss"  look  and  tone  of  Mr.  Flan- 
nagan satisfied  mc  he  was  the  spark  or  percussion  fuse 
that  would  cause  a  lively  detonation.  I  adopted  an 
evasive  policy;  although,  as  1  said  before,  1  was  mad 
enough  to  fight,  yet  there  was  not  one  in  that  misled 
crowd  that  1  ought  to  attack;  and  more,  I  reflected, 
that  it  was  unwise  for  men  to  fight  on  a  misunder- 
standing that  lioth  could  explain.  I  told  Mr.  Flanna- 
gan thcic  was  a  mistake,  tliat  1  had  not  challenged 
Mr.  Ophcleide,  1  saw  his  countenance  fall,  when  he 
replied — ■ 


MEETS  A   WARM    RECEPTION. 


147 


"Och,  an'  its  not  yer  haner  az'll  ba  afther  showin' 
ther  white  fithcr,  at  all,  at  all?  Pr'aps  yer  haner,  an' 
its  mesilf  thit's  niver  a  bit  blaniin'  ov  yez,  thit  thinks 
yez  above  sic  terrash;  an'  if  so  it  ba  the  same,  jist  ver 
accammodat  Misther  Flinnigin  by  spakin  the  wonul, 
and  its  the  silf-same  lad  that'll  lick  chine  ther  whole 
plather  in  a  jiffy." 

And  Mr.  Flannagan  flourished  his  shillalah,  and 
glanced  at  the  crowd,  with  the  self-confident  air  and 
eye  of  a  boss  contractor  taking  in  the  scope  of  the 
job. 

"An'  sure  \er  haner'll  niver  ba_  afther  taking  away 
all  me  roights,"  pleaded  Pat.  "\'e'll  jist  plaze  to  lip 
me  the  worud,  thit  I  moight  tap  aff  the  hid  aff  thit 
pat-billied  Affcleed  ?  inny  ways,  al  the  toime." 

This  reduction  in  the  demand  for  the  worud  from 
the  "claning  o'  the  whole  platter,"  to  the  tapping  the 
"hid  aff'n''  only  one,  Pat  considered  an  appeal  for  his 
last  "roight,"  It  appeared  cruel  to  divest  Mr.  Flanna- 
gan of  his  last  roight,  yet  I  firmly  told  him  I  could  not 
give  the  "worud."  Fearing  he  could  not  be  restrained 
much  longer,  that  his  present  proximity  to  that  turbu- 
lent crowd  was  extra  hazardous,  also  that  a  nearer  ap- 
proach to  that  dj'namite  rabble,  of  his  red-hot  desire 
to  tap  something,  would  precipitate  a  gei>eral  row,  I 
asked  Mr.  Flannagan  if  he  woultl  not  do  an  errand 
for  me. 

"Yis,  yis,  in  a  jiffy;"  and  to  my  surprise  Pat  looked 
happy,  and  continuing,  said:  "Pll  go  sthraight  and 
back  in  thra  sheeks  o'  a  shape's  tail ;  an'  where  be  they  ? 
an'  if  he's  yez  havn't  got  one  o'  these,"  and  he  held  up 
his  shillalah,  "it's  mesilf  az  has  as  foine  an  assortmint 
of  this  silf-same  waypon  as  mny  mon  iver  laid  his  two 


148  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

lookin'  eyes  on  outside  o'  Donnybrook  Fair.  Shall  I 
bhering  siveral,  thit  yez  can  tak  yer  pick?  An'  now 
I'm  aff;  yez  lady  can  hind  me  pistils?"  and  Pat  had 
actually  started, 

"Hold  on,  Mr.  Flannagin,  you  are  mistaken;  I  don't 
want  any  weapons.  I  want  you  to  go  to  Mr.  Arndul's 
house,  and  tell  him  that  I  will  see  him  this  afternoon." 

"Arrah!  an'  yer  not  afther  postponin'  the  consart 
wid  thim  musisherners  twill  afther  dinner?"  Fat  asked, 
crestfallen.  "Barrin  yer  haner  is  a  docthor,  an'  maybe 
loike  kens  more'n  mesilf  ov  sich,  Fm  the  lad  as'll  take 
me  pairt  in  sich  prosadin's  jist  before  males,  as  yer 
haner,  bain'  a  docther,  kens  its  al  the  toime  the  lank 
stumniick  an'  lane  bow'l  as  dodges  the  knoife  an'  ther 
bullit." 

Mr.  Flannaofan  liad  reduced  his  favorite  amusement 
to  a  "fearfully  scientific"  basis.  I  told  Fat  that  I  did 
not  intend  to  have  any  difficulty. 

"VVhativer  is  it  yer  afther  sayin'?  Not  foight  inny 
at  all?"  he  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  blank  despair;  "Will 
yez  thin  give  me  the  worud?" 

"No,  Mr.  Flannagan,  you  arc  a  good  and  true 
friend,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  involve  you  in  my  trou- 
bles," I  answered.  "I  wish  you  to  goto  Mr.  Arndul's 
and  tell  liim  I  will   come  this  afternoon." 

"An  shure  FU  tlo  innything  for  yer  haner  an'  me 
pairty;  but  it's  mesilf  as  is  a  moight  afraitl  to  lave  yez 
wid  thim  niurtherin  horn-tooters;  hadn't  yez  bitter  go 
lang  wi'  me?  or,  mal)be  loike,  wait  a  bit  alf,  twill  Fm 
com'd  agin?" 

Mr.  Flannagan  spoke  in  an  earnest,  anxious  tone, 
though  I  couldn't  appiove  of  his  idea  of  an  errand,  in 
having  me  "go  lang  wi'"   him,  yet  I  liked  his  friendly 


MEETS    A    WARM    UECEI'TION.  I49 

solicitude.     To  satisfy    him,   I   told   him   I  could  take 
care  of  myself. 

"Will  yer  haner  promise  me,  by  the  howly  jimpin' 
Moses,  sayin'  there's  to  ba  inny  performince  on  the 
loikes  of  this  luvly  instrument,"  and  Pat  eyed  his  shil- 
lalah  affectionately;  "that  ye'll  plaze  to  put  it  in  the 
bills,  that  Misther  Patherick  Flinnigin,  clane  all  the 
way  from  Tipperrary,  the  most  cilebrated  perfairmer 
in  ther  wide  worrald  an  the  sowl  stirrin'  insthrument 
called  the  shillalah,  will  lade  the  arkistry  ?" 

"Yes,  Yes,  Mr.  Flannagan,  you  shall  be  apprised  if 
there  is  any  fighting.  There  shall  not  be  a  lick  struck 
till  you  are  on  hand,  and  have  the  'worud.' " 

"Many  thanks  twill  yez,"  gratefully  responded  Pat. 
"  'A  frind  in  nade's  a  frind  indade,'  an'  Fm  not  the  lad 
as'U  forgit  yez  haner  for  sich  a  gerait  favor.  An'  yer 
kape  yer  papers  paled  an'  thim  murtherin  fillers,  an' 
whativer  yez  do,  don't  let  ther  ball  open  twill  ther 
chafe  musisherner  is  prisint."  And  Pat  was  ofi"  doub- 
le-quick. 

How  strange,  that  there  is  any  mortal  who  consid- 
ers it  a  "gerait  favor"  and  delights  in  the  fun  of  fight- 
ing; Pat  Flannagan  was  one. 

I  walked  straight  to  my  office  door;  the  crowd  al- 
lowing me  to  pass  in  quietly ;  at  least,  without  an}- 
demonstrations  of  personal  violence,  though  there  were 
several  menacing  expressions,  both  facial  and  verbal, 
(I  guess,)  but  happily  I  didn't  understand  the  latter. 
And  now,  whom  do  vou  think  I  found  in  theofiice? 

A. — "Don't  know;  probably  Ophcleide;  a  huge 
broadsword;  Trombone,  second;  a  surgeon;  and  friends 
to  Ophcleide." 

"No!      No   principal;    no  second;    no   swords;    no 


150  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

anxious  friends;  no  warlike  indications  or  preparations, 
but  instead,  the  white-winged  messengers  of  peace. 
Ministers  extraordinary,  ])ut  not  plenipotentiary:  min- 
isters of  the  gospel." 

A. — "Ministers    of   the    gospel?        What    on    earth 
brought  them?" 

"You  know,  that  good  pious  brothers  Goldman  and 
Bonham  were  sorely  exercised  at  my  Saturday  night's 
unfortunate  affair,  and  in  their  usual  delicate  manner, 
brought  home  to  my  spiritual  vision  the  unknown  (?) 
fact  that  I  had  done  wrong.  Thev  had  heard  of 
the  bloody  duel;  had  bathed  leisurely  in  the  current  of 
probabilities;  diven  down  deep,  and  brought  up  bot- 
tom facts,  as  was  their  wont,  and  after  calling  in  two 
common-place,  plodding  preachers,  merely  for  forms 
sake,  they  were  now^  ready  to  render  judgement  in  my 
case,  and  all  I  had  to  do,  was  to  stand  up  and  I'eceive 
sentence.  So  I  walked  unknowingly  and  unceremon- 
iously into  the  august  presence  of  this  grand  ecclesi- 
astical conclave.  There  were  sanctified  brothers  Cold- 
man  and  Bonham,  with  two  common-place  j^reachers, 
Wise  and  Milton.  Not  knowing  at  what  stage  of  the 
proceedings  this  solemn  conclave  had  reached  in  their 
sanctimonious  deliberations,  nor  the  scope  of  its  juris- 
diction, whether  ecumenical  or  topical;  nor  yet  the 
nature  of  the  question ;  whether  social,  moral,  political  or 
ecclesiastical;  I  felt  my  way  cautiously,  by  bidding 
them  gootl  morning;  not  with  that  suavity  that 
anticipates  a  fat  fee.  Then,  with  that  aforesaid  hilar- 
ity  of  ♦lesperation,  continued : 

"Gentlenuii,  whv  am  1  thus  honcn'cd?     My  butlding 
iionors  grow  tiiick  upon  me." 

"Brotlu-i-  Smith,"  began  Mr.  I>(.iih;iin,  "the  worldly 


MEETS    A    WARM     RECEPTION.  I51 

minded  characterize  the  hloody,  the  murderous  prac- 
tice of  duelHng,  as  an  affair  of  honor.  My  good  friends 
and  myself,  have  come  to  endeavor  to  convince  you, 
that  this  view  of  such  sinful  ways  is  not  only  unchris- 
tian, hut  ^■ery  culpable — yea,  very  criminal." 

Here  the  good  man  ceased  to  address  me,  in  time  to 
prevent  my  interruption,  and  continued,  addressing  his 
companions: 

"Brethren,  I  think  there  is,  in  the  case  of  brother 
Smith,  a  mitigating  phase;  I  mean  intoxication;  which, 
although  a  great  moral  depravity  itself — though  it  is 
no  legal  excuse  for  greater  crimes;  yet,  as  it  renders 
the  moral  perceptions  obtuse,  then  in  the  broad  light 
of  Christian  charity,  it  shows  Mr.  Smith's  contem- 
plated— not  committed  crime;  that  is,  it  renders  the 
mere  intent  less,  or  in  other  words,  if  I  might  so  speak, 
ah—" 

"Brother  Bonham,"  mildly  but  firmly  interrupted 
Mr.  Wise,  a  good  and  discreet  man,  who  was  dis- 
gusted at  this  incoherent,  hypocritical  cant,  "Don't 
you  think  it  would  be  better  before  the  execution,  to 
have  a  trial  and  judgment?  It  is  customary.  Let  us 
arraign  the  prisoner,  read  the  indictment,  and  ask  the 
usual  question:  guilty  or  not  guilty?" 

"You  are  right.  Brother  Wise,"  said  another  good 
and  efficient  man,  Mr.  Milton;  "altogether  correct. 
Let  us  first  hear  from  brother  Smith,"  and  with  a  nod 
to  Mr.  Bonham,  said:  "We've  heard  your  story ;  now 
we'll  hear  the  other  side." 

"Be-ert  ah  the  ah  ger-eat  ke-ause  of  te-emperance 
ah,  must  be  ah,"  interposed  Mr,  Goldman. 

"Also  3'ours,  Brother  Coldman,"  promjitly  inter- 
rupted   Mr.    Milton.       "I    insist    on    hearing    brother 


152  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

Smith's  version  of  the  whole  affair;"  and  turning  to 
me,  continued:  "I  hope  you'll  excuse  us  for  meddling 
with  vour  personal  affairs.  Brother  Smith.  From  my 
knowledge  of  your  character  and  standing  in  the  com- 
munity, I  am  satisfied  you  have  been  seriously,  per- 
haps wantonly,  misrepresented  as  to  the  drunkenness, 
and  designedly  misunderstood  in  regard  to  the  duel. 
My  apology  for  this  must  be  found  in  mv  anxiety  to 
ascertain  the  facts,  and  then  do  all  I  can  to  avert  the 
evil  to  you;  if  there  should  be  anv  impending." 

I  thanked  Mr.  Milton,  and  told  him  I  was  under 
many  obligations  for  the  first  sensible  and  friendly 
view  of  a  persistently,  perhaps  maliciously  misunder- 
stood, trivial  affair;  grossly  magnified  into  serious  pro- 
portions. Here  are  the  facts  from  beginning  to  end; 
form  your  own  estimate  of  the  gravity  of  the  matter, 
and  your  own  conclusions  as  to  what  course  is  proper 
to  snatch  John  Smith  from  a  drunkard's  grave,  pro- 
vided he  is  not  slain,  carved  into  sausage  meat,  in  this 
bloody  duel.     I  related  what  the  reader  knows. 

"A  tempest   in  a  teapot,"   said    Mr.  Wise. 

"Grand  tableau  of  Pelion  on  Ossa,  with  two  mole 
hills,"  facetiously  remarked   Mr.  Milton. 

"The  judgement  of  this  court  of  Star  Chamber,"  re- 
joined Mr.Wise,"is,  that  the  accused,  John  Smith,  stands 
actjuitted  of  the  manifold  charges  preferred  against 
him." 

"Now,  Brother  Smith,  wc  will  go  earnestly  to  work, 
forthwith,  to  appease  the  formidable  Ophcleide," 
said  Mr.  Milton;  then  with  a  look  at  Honham  and 
Goldman  that  was  decidedly  personal,  concludetl, 
"and  set  you  right  with  the  gossiping  community." 


MEETS    A    WARM     UECEPTION.  153 

"Mister  vSmith  has  made  no  acknowledgements  to 
the  session,"  drawled  Mr.  Bonham,  "and  I  must  with- 
hold my  sanction  till  some  penitence  is — " 

"This  august  council  stands  adjourned  siJte  die  P'' 
exclaimed  Mr.  Milton,  leaving  his  chair,  follow^ed  by 
Wise. 

Mr.  Bonham  and  the  Apostle  were  splendid  pictures 
of  ungratified  malice. 

A. — "John,  your  details  are  tiresome." 

"Yes,  when  you  speak  of  very  tiresome  subjects, 
Bonham  and  Goldman,  they  are  more  than  tiresome. 
They  belong  to  that  paradoxical  class  of  harmful  good 
men;  while  Messrs.  Wise  and  Milton,  belong  to  that 
orthodox  class  of  doing-good  men.  It  was  difficult  for 
me  to  keep  from  requesting  the  paradox  gentlemen  to 
vacate  my  office;  but  I  got  satisfaction  from  the  digni- 
fied, manly  snubbing  the}'  got  from  the  other  two  su- 
perior men. 

Bonham  seized  his  hat  and  told  Goldman:  "Gome, 
brother  Goldman,  this  is  no  place  for  the  precious  pre- 
cepts of  the  meek  'and  lowly  Jesus  (what  blasphemous 
arrogance)  to  be  appreciated,  nor  the  counsels  of  his 
humble  followers  to  be  received."     They  started. 

My  office  was  on  the  second  floor  of  a  three  story 
building;  a  long  flight  of  boxed-in  stairs,  rising  14^ 
feet,  led  uj)  from  the  front.  This  stairway  was  not  well 
lighted.  Messrs.  Bonham  and  Goldman  had  descend- 
ed but  a  few  steps,  arm  in  arm,  when  up  came,  with 
the  noise  and  velocity  of  three-pound  rocket,  a  counter 
force.  It  struck,  with  a  resounding  thud,  the  Apostle — 
who,  as  I  said  before,  was  a  long,  lank,  lantern-jawed, 

cavilling,  cadaverous  caricature  on  humanity — at  a  point 
— 20 


le^  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

just  below  the  waist-band.  The  shock  was  terrific. 
There  were  three  several — nearly  simultaneous,  but 
rather  shingled  over  exclamations:  First  a  "me-y 
Ge-od,  ah"— then,  "Oh,  Lordy— oh"— and  then,  "what 
in  the  divil  an'  Tarn  Wak-r-r-r" — all  instantly  succeed- 
ed and  slurred  over,  by  a  continuous  rumbling,  bump- 
ing, scrambling  noise,  that  very  rapidly  grew  fainter 
as  it  descended,  much  like  that  you've  heard  at  a  rail- 
road coaling  station. 

Messrs.  Wise  and  Milton  and  myself  rushed  to  the 
the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  through  the  cloud  of  dust 
intervening  indistinctly  discerned  a  mass  of  very  lively 
arms  and  legs.  The  music  to  this  uncouth  balmasque 
was  varied  to  suit  the  whim  of  each  performer. 

"Mercy,  mercy  on  thy  unfortunate" — "Oh,  He-ev- 
ingly  Fe-ather,  me-ey  me-ortal  ste-ummick — the-y 
se-ervant  is  se-orly  stricken" — "By  the  howly  jimpin' 
Moses,  an'  he'll  ba  a  bloody  soight  worse  sthricken  nor 
thit,  an'  yez  don't  tak  yer  windin  blads  o'  ligs  afF'n 
me  chist" — and  there  was  a  sudden  change  of  partners, 
a  thump — "There!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Flannagan,  (for  it 
was  Pat)  as  he  extricated  himself  and  sprang  to  his 
feet.  "By  the  powers,  yez  can  jist  ba  afther  hilpin  yez 
bhlunderin'  silves  twill  yer  pigs,  for  all  Mr.  Flinnigin 
'11  hilp  yez.  To  rin  over  a  nion  inthirely,  thit's  goin 
pace-ibly  ip  to  say  the  docther.  An'  how  the  divil  did 
yez  know  whither  Pse  kimming  ip  wid  baith  o'  me 
ligs  broken  close  afF  twill  mc  body  to  have  'cm  set — 
an'  to  thrate  a  puir  cripple  that  away;  away  wid  yez 
baith,  or  its  mcsilf  as  'al  have  yez  arristed  for  'salt  an' 
bathery,  be  dad,  I  will." 

My   companions   aiul   myself  went  to  care   for  the 


MEETS    A    WARM     RECEPTION.  1 55 

fallen  heroes,  but  not,  however,  in  time  to  save  brother 
Goldman  some  additional  punishment;  as  his  position 
was  extremely  vulnerable,  and  one  of  Ophcleide's  Ger- 
man friends  mistaking  this  tumble  for  the  beginning 
of  the  duel,  rushed  up  and  administered  several  vigor- 
ous kicks  before  he  discovered  his  mistake. 

We  assisted  these  two  unfortunate  men  to  their  feet. 
I  proffered  to  furnish  restoratives  to  brother  Goldman, 
but  he  very  snappishly  refused  them,  and  asked  to  be 
helped  to  a  neighboring  drug  store,  to  which  he  went 
half-bent,  with  both  hands  pressed  over  the  region  of 
his  'mortal  stummick' — limping  and  groaning  at  every 
step.  At  the  drug  store  he  was  soon  revived  with  his 
usual  prescription:  R.  Spts.  Frument;  do.  Spts.  Menth. 
pip.  ad  lib. 

The  two  sensible  preachers  left  me,  to  do  a  good 
work.  Pat  had  gone  up  to  my  office — I  followed.  On 
entering,  I  found  Pat  standing,  with  the  crown  of  his 
hat  telescoped  half  way,  and  his  face  wearing  a  com- 
pound expression  of  deference,  penitence  and  fun.  He 
removed  his  hat  on  my  entrance,  discovering  a  fresh 
bandage  around  his  head,  which  surgical  appliance 
covered,  on  one  side  of  the  head,  a  contusion  about  the 
size  Bud  shape  of  a  longitudinal  sectioij  of  a  goose  egg. 
Pat  tenderly  caressed  the  bump  with  the  tactus  eriidi- 
tus^  then  eyeing  the  hat  with  a  serio-comic  expression, 
spake : 

"By  the  powers,  thit  ould  pious  church-staple  ov  a 
chicken  had  an  almoighty  tough  gizzard  in  'im.  Inny 
ways,  if  he  niver  did  bayfore,  it's  mesilt  as  thinks  he 
had  'is  bow'ls  o'  compassion  will  stirred  for  once  in  'is 
borrun  days." 


156  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"So  I  should  think,"  I  repHed;  "and  it  must  have 
been  a  stony  gizzard  to  lower  that  hat  crown  so  much 
in  one  direction,  and  raise  that  bump  so  high  in  the 
opposite.     You  must  have  got  that  on  the  staircase." 

"Och,  an'  yer  haner  is  rifirin'  to  thit  badge  o'  dis- 
tinction ?"  queried  Pat,  touching  the  contusion.  "Faith 
an'  thit  rewarud  o'  mirit  was  handed  to  Misther  Flin- 
nigin,  by  a  moightier  soight  skilfuller  warkman  nor 
thim  ould  mateless  skillitons,  the  bones  o'  the  silf  same 
I  hilped  to  play  sich  a  jolly  rattlin'  jig  clane  all  the 
blissid  way  down  j'cr  stairs,  twill  ther  sthrate  in- 
tirely." 

"I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Flannagan,  j^ou  ran  against  Mr, 
Goldman;  I  presume  it  was  accidental?"  I  rather 
questioned. 

"Yis,  yis;  ixidintal  shure,  that's  the  worud.  Yez 
say  it  was  mcsilf  as  was  in  a  monsthracious  hurry  to 
ra-turrun,  ahid  o'  the  shillalah  horunpipe,  wi  thim 
krout  atin'  pipers,  an'  shure,  how  could  I  iver,  wi'  me 
salve  rag,  (bandage)  an'  me  hat  pulled  down  to  concale 
the  same,  kape  me  papers  skinned  clane  all  the  way 
twill  the  tap  o'  ver  lang  stairs,  and  thin,  intirely  to  the 
tap  o'  thim  lang  hungry  spalpeens?  He'd  inny  foight- 
in'  as  yit?  I  d<i|n't  mane  wi'  hcrrin  AfTcleed,  as  3'ez 
plaze  to  call  'im;  he's  safe  enough  the  prisint  toime." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  I'^lannagan  ?"  I  was  at  a 
loss  to  know,  as  it  was  now  eleven  o'clock,  why  Mr. 
Ophclcide  hadn't  made  his  appearance.  I  desired 
much  to  see  him  and  pay  him  something,  if  he  had 
worked  for  nu-  imdcr  an  honest  mistake.  I  feared  the 
"l)adge  o'  distinction,  or  re-warnd  o'  mirit"  that  decor- 


MEETS    A    WARM     RECEPTION.  1^'J 

ated    Mr.  Flannagan's  head,  had   some   direct  connec- 
tion   with    the    non-appearance    of    Herr     Ophcleidc. 
"Where   is  Mr.  Ophcleidc,  Pat?"   I  asked.     "What 
do  you  mean  by  'he's  safe  enough.?'  " 

"Oh,  I  guiss  thim  at^cers'll  chile  tinderly  wi'  the  wea 
thing,"   he  replied. 

"Did    you    have     any    difficulty — fight     with     him? 

Where   did  you  get  that  hlow  on  the  head,  Mr.  Flan- 
nagan  ?" 

"I'll  jist  till  yer  haner,  thit  'is  royal  hoighniss,  Fitz- 
herrin  Will-hil  o'  a  filler  Affcleed  is,  an'  I  mistak  not, 
at  the  prisint  toime,  papin  through  the  tin  o'  dimints; 
in  ither  woruds,  in  the  kilaboose,  or  jail,  an'  I'm  not 
botherin'  which." 

"In  the  calaboose  or  jail?     For  what?     How?" 
"It's  mesilf  as  is  not  jist  mindin'  the  hows  o'  it,"  he 

answered.     "Dinnis    McGrath    tould    me    he  was   ar- 

risted." 

"You  haven't  told  me  where  you  got  that  blow  on 
the  head,  Mr.  Flannagan,"  I  persisted. 

"An'  I'm  bloody  fareful  thit  yez'll  go  back   on    me; 
sayin  I  didn't  thrate  yez  roight,"  he  replied. 
"How  ?" 

"Och;  bavin'  a  splindid  toime  all  by  mesilf,  an'  de- 
privin'  o'  yer  haner  o'  the  fun  o'  takin^  a  pairt.  But 
yez  say,  I  was  in  a  broth  'o  hurry,  an'  thit  mon  Air- 
nald,  was  not  twill  home,  an'  a  moighty  sick  mon  he 
moost  bay;  an'  twixt  yersilf  an'  Patherick  Flinnigin, 
there's  a  cat  in  the  male  toob;  sheynanagan  there, 
shure;  an'  as  I  was  coomin  away  fram  'is  house,  who 
iver  should  1  mate  a  bogin  'roun',  but  thit  hookel-lMrry 


158  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

eyed,  pratie-nased  Blickman,  Thinks  I,  Misther 
Patherick  Flinnigin,  if  so  it  iver  was  to  be,  now's  yer 
chince;  for  yer  say,  I  was  in  a  murtlieriu  floo-ry  for 
the  fear  o'  liis  passin'  me  by  widout  spak'iiv.  Butliowly 
St.  Patherick  !  if  he  didn't  jist  accammodit  me  the  luv- 
liest  intirely — fur  the  virra  fust  worud  he  poked  at 
Mistlier  Fhnnigin,  was  a  burrurnin  insoolt  twill  yer 
haner.  Siz  'e,  will  Pat,  you've  coom'd  to  say  the  sick 
mon  for  yer  Masther  Johnn}',  did  y ez  ?  His  virra  wor- 
uds.  An'  luv  yer  sowl,  barrin  the  insoolt  twill  yer 
haner,  thit  was  swate  music.  So  Misther  Flinnigin 
jined  in  the  choorus,  an'  sint  'im  some  o'  me  best  notes 
an  a  high  kay;  an'  gintly  obsarved  in  me  moildist  tur- 
rums  thit  'e  was  a  blatherin,  darty,  shape-stalin  blag- 
'ard,  an'  a  bloody  murtherin  liar  to  boot — whin  spat, 
he  hindid  me  this  silf  same  phranoligikil  dayvilop- 
mint." 

Here  Pat  paused  and  caressed  the  bump,  then  ani- 
matedly resuming — 

"An'  yez  say,  bain  sthruck  I  didn't  nade  the  worud, 
so  I  waltzed  in  like  a  lively  lad,  an'  filt  o'  his  hid  wid 
me  shillalah,  an'  not  bain  at  all  plazed  wi'  the  soize  an' 
noomber  o'  his  bumps,  I  prosadcd  to  cooltivate  'em  a 
bit  wi'  me  sciantayfic  insthrumint.  By  the  powers,  an' 
1  raised  a  sphndid  kerap.  I  sint  'im  to  grass  as  fast  as 
'e  could  git  'is  pigs,  an'  whin  'is  frinds  tak  'im  away, 
his  hid  looked  for  all  the  worruld  loikc  a  jjratie  hill, 
barrin  the  taps  and  airth.  Thin  I  jist  coom'd  liere  in 
a  jifly,  an'  thit  ixplanes  the  hows  o'  it  thit  I  was  so  mis- 
fortiniit  as  to  oopsit  thit  ould  galoot's  bridhaskit." 

"I'm    sorry,   Pat.      The    city    marshal    will    be    after 


MEETS    A    WARM     RECEPTION.  159 

you  soon.     Let  me  know  if  you  are  arrested,  and  you 
musi  quit  fi^htins:." 

"It's  not  mesilf  as  fears  the  city  marshal,  at  all.    Mis- 
ther  Flinnigin  knows  the  ropes." 

A. — "Too  much  Hibernian — let's  quit." 

"Well,  all  right,  till  to-morrow  night." 


l6o  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 


NIGHT   X. 


ADDITIONAL    CALORIC. 


Mr.  Flannagan  and  myself  were  still  in  the  office. 
I  should  have  felt  much  easier  had  it  not  been  for  what 
Pat  had  stated  in  regard  to  Herr  Ophcleide.  I  wished 
very  much  to  know  whether  or  not  he  had  been  arrest- 
ed and  imprisoned,  and  wherefore.  I  accordingly 
penned  a  note  to  Mr.  Honore,  asking  him  to  inquire 
into  the  matter,  and  report  to  me.  I  feared  some  of 
my  friends  had  taken  a  serious  view  of  that  outrageous 
story  of  the  duel,  as  strongly  indicated  by  the  action  of 
Wise  and  Milton,  and  from  the  same  motive,  though 
foolishly,  had  proceeded  to  extreme  measures  without 
first  ascertaining  the  facts.  In  fact  the  whole  campaign 
had  been,  from  the  outset,  such  a  series  of  egregious 
blunders,  misunderstandings  and  willful  misrej^resent- 
ations — growing  more  complicated  every  moment, 
that  I  hardly  knew  where  or  how  to  begin  to  unravel 
the  entanglements.  I  could  not  then  well  see  any 
probable  complications,  and  yet  each  step  in  the  pro- 
gress of  the  canvass  was  a  now  surprise  to  me,  at  my 
then  unsophisticated  age.  I  could  see,  however,  some 
palpably  probable  occurrences;  among  which  was  the 
arrest  of  Mr,  Flannagan  by  the  city  marshal,  as  soon 
as  he  could  find  Pat. 


ADDITIONAI.    CALORIC.  l6l 

T  told  Pat  to  take  the  note  to  Mr.  Honorc,  and  if  the 
marshal  should  arrest  him,  to  ask  the  officer  to  please 
come  to  my  office.  If  he  refused,  then  I  told  Pat  to 
send  me  "worud." 

"Kape  an  oye  twill  yezsilf,  jcr  haner,  an'  niver  a 
mickle  fear  fer  Pat  Flinnigin.  An'  yez  haner  plaze, 
hiv  yez  sich  a  coiiveyneyince  as  a  pri\  at  convayince 
from  yer  affis?" 

"A  what?" 

"Sich  as  yez  moight  call  a  back  door." 

"No,  no!  Mr.  Flannagan,  go  on,  do  not  fear  any- 
thing, I'll  stand  by  you  to  the  'last  man  and  the  last 
dollar-'  " 

"Will  yer  haner  gi'  me  yer  hand  on  thit,  an'  I'm  the 
lad  as  '11  stind  by  yez  twill  ther  last  day  in  ther  mor- 
rernin;  an'  here  goes." 

Mr.  Flannagan  was  gone  but  a  moment,  when  the 
door,  without  any  warning  save  the  sound  of  light  foot- 
falls outside,  suddenly  opened,  and  in  came — whom  do 
you  guess? 

A. — "Can't  say,  you  are  getting  so  badly  mixed." 

"My  wife  and  Mrs. " 

A.— "Your  wife?" 

"Yes,  and  Mrs.  Sharpnose." 

A.— "Indeed?" 

"Indeed,  and  in  person." 

A.— "Well,  John?" 

"It's  no  use  to  say  well,  John;  it  wasn't  well,  and  if 
you'd  been  in  my  place,  you'd  have  thought  it  was  a 
long  ways  from  well." 


l63  JOHN  SMITH,   DEMOCRAT. 

A.— "What  did  they  want?" 

"I  saw  my  wife  had  been  crying;  saw  she  was  ready 
to  cry  again  on  the  shghtest provocation;  in  fact,  with- 
out any  lachrymal  incentive  on  my  part.  Saw,  also, 
that  the  other  woman  had  indulged  in  a  shower  of 
crocodile  tears;  sympathetically,  you  know." 

A.— "Well?" 

"Well,  I  asked  the  ladies  to  be  seated,  with  about 
the  same  uoji  chalance  employed  by  the  condemned 
wretch  before  the  drop  falls,  when  he  forces  out,  with 
mock  indifference,  'I'm  ready.'  My  executioners  were 
humane.     The  drop  came  speedily." 

"Just  to  think!  Oh!  ah!  Mister  Smith,"  began  my 
wife — "to  think  that — you — would  so  far  forget  your- 
self— as  to  engage  in  a — a — ter-terrible  duel — to  lose 
sight  of  your  fiimily — and,  oh — if  it  was  for  the  ev- 
erlasting nomination  I  could  stand  it;  but  all  for  that 
mean — I  can't  say  who — oh  dear." 

Between  my  anger  and  decorum  there  was  an  une- 
qual contest;  the  force  of  the  latter  was  altogether  too 
weak  to  hold  long  in  check  the  former;  however,  with 
a  great  stroke  of  generalship,  I  brought  all  the  suavity 
at  my  command  to  the  front;  stayed  for  a  moment  the 
overwhelming  anger,  and  asked — 

"Mv  dear,  what  is  the  matter?"  very  ignorantly 
innocent,  you  know.  Mrs.  Sharpnose  was  standing 
in  supporting  distance  of  nn  wife,  like  Melpomene, 
with  deep  wrinkled  brow  "entrenched  with  thunder," 
waiting  to  decide  tlie  contest.      My  wife  continued — 

"Oh,  dear  John,  do  not  g<>  to  light  a  duel  with  that 
M  I.  0])h(li-idc- ;    I    know    you    ha\e    more    respect   for 


ADDITIONAL    CALORIC.  I  63 

yourself,  if  you  have  no  love  or  respect   for  your  wife. 
Oh,  husl)and,  don't,  don't  do  it." 

Just  at  this  juncture  I  saw  the  warlike  expression  of 
the  tragic  muse,  and  the  angry  forces  made  an  irresist- 
ahle  charge  on  my  thin  line  of  decorum;  it  wavered 
and  broke;  and  then  1  spoke — 

"Do  you  think  I'm  a  fool?  Do  you  believe,  without 
investigation,  all  you  hear?  In  short,  Mrs.  Smith,  have 
you  lost  sight  of  the  important  fact  that  I  am  John 
Smith? — honest  John  Smith?" 

Smoothing  out  one  wrinkle  of  her  "grim-visaged 
front,"  Mrs.  Sharpnose  said — 

"La,  Mr.  Sm.ith,  you  oughter  know  folks  will  talk." 
"I  am  aware,  madam,  they  will  talk,  much  more 
than  they  think;  invent  a  subject  matter,  if  they  have 
no  basis  in  truth;  talk  their  neighbors  out  of  character, 
out  of  business,  out  of  prosperity  to  ruin,  out  of  san- 
ity to  madness,  out  of  life  to  suicide,  I  replied,  grandly. 
But  w^hy  this  visit?" 

"Oh,  dear  John,  I  was  told  that  you  wanted  to,  and 
was  going  to  fight  a  duel,"  resumed  my  wife,  "with  a 
Mr.  Ophcleide,  on  account  of  Miss  Gay  (great  Caesar, 
thought  I),  when  I,  John,  your  faithful  wife,  am  delv- 
ing at  home,  as  Mr.  Sharpnose  says,  in  unsuspecting 
innocence,  to  save  all  I  can,  and  be  a  good  wife  to 
you." 

This  put  to  rout  my  entire  line  of  decorous  defense, 
and  with  the  hopeless  heroic  determination  of  striking, 
single  handed,  one  final  blow  at  the  surging,  angry 
masses  of  bristling  emotions,  I  said : 

"My  dear  wife,  you  are  excited;  you  have  been  im- 


164  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

posed  upon;  misled.  This  is  no  place  for  you.  Do 
go  home;  I'll  explain  all  when  I  come  to  dinner." 

Mrs.  Sharpnose,  with  one  or  two  extra  wrinkles  on 
her  corrugated  brow,  said: 

"For  myself,  1  think  your  poor  wife's  got  a  mfghty 
sight  to  bear,  1  do;  and  I  don't  see  how  she  can  ever 
stand  it,  I  don't." 

"Madam,"  I  retorted,  rather  scornfully,  "are  you  not 
encouraging  my  wife  in  this  worse  than  foolish  move? 
Have  you  not  neglected  your  own  affairs,  to  meddle 
with  ours,  in  such  a  way  as  to  induce  my  wife  to  be- 
lieve there  was  somethmg  terribly  wrong." 

This  brought  Mrs.  Sharpnose  to  a  woman's  last  and 
strongest  argument,  tears.     When  she  answered: 

"Mr.  Smith,  boo  I  hoo!  I  only  boo!  thought  as  how 
boo!  hoo  I  hoo!  I  was  doin'  of  your  boo!  hoo!  poor 
sufferin'  wife  a  gr-great  fa-favor." 

"Doubtless  you  thought  it  was  a  great  favor,''  I  re- 
plied, with  irony.  "1  know  you  so  thought;  so  do  you; 
that  is,  you  are  aware  of  the  fact  that  you  got  this  dis- 
agreeable phase  of  the  duel  up  for  t lie  sole  purpose  of 
conferring  this  great  favor.  No  doubt  you  propose  to 
increase  the  magnitude  of  the  favor,  by  pushing  this 
slanderous  view  of  the  affair  to  its  worst  possible  re- 
sults. You  can  see  that  I  highly  appreciate  this  fa- 
vor." Then  addressing  Mrs.  Smith:  "Now,  my 
wife,  believe  me  as  you  ought,  in  preference  to  tattlers, 
when  1  tell  you  this  is  all  bosh;  all  tomfoolry — all  got- 
ten up  by  designing  persons,  aided  by  malicious  per- 
sons, the  one  to  fret  you  and  me,  the  other  to  influence 
this  election.  Pav  n<t  attention  to  any  such  pestifer- 
ous gossip,  fiDin  any  source,  concerning  anybody." 


ADDITIONAL    CALORIC.  165 

"Mr.  John  Smith!"  explosively  from  vSharpnose. 
"I'll  have  you  to  understand  I  didn't  come  to  your  of- 
fice, with  your  poor,  ahused  wife,  to  be  insulted,  I  did 
n't,  and  I'll  tell  Mr.  Sharpnose,  if  I'm  spared  to  git 
home,  I  will." 

From  the  hunted,  troubled  look  in  my  wife's  face,  I 
felt  sorrow  for  her.  I  could  see  that  it  was  dawninsf 
on  her  mind  that  she  had  hastily  blundered.  Although 
the  additional  complication,  the  prospective  rage  of 
Mr.  Sharpnose,  did  not  ni  the  least  trouble  me,  vet  I 
was  satisfied  my  wife  feared  it. 

A. — "John,  allow  me  to  suggest  that  your  wife  is  a 
discreet  woman,  and  you  are  not  doing  her  justice." 

She  was  then,  and  is  now,  a  very  sensible  woman, 
and  if  you'll  think  a  moment,  you  will  see  that  I  am 
not  abusing  her.  Where  is  the  woman  whose  jealousy 
is  aroused,  that  will  not  act  foolishly — "Trifles  light  as 
air,  &c." — or  \A^iere's  the  true  hearted  woman  that 
will  not  rush,  heedless  of  everything  else,  to  the  res- 
cue of  her  husband  when  his  life  is  imperiled.  She 
stands  not  on  the  order  of  her  going;  if  she  does  she's 
not  made  of  the  right  kind  of  material.  A  woman, 
acting  under  either  impulse,  is  an  easy  victim  of  these 
cool,  designing  wretches,  who  have  no  interest  save  to 
aggravate  such  matters,  and  who  could,  if  they  would, 
give  deliberate  good  advice.  Such  I  wish  to  abuse; 
and  when  I  think  of  how  much  trouble  that  one  Sharp- 
nose woman  caused  me  and  my  wife,  I  swear  eternjil 
enmity  against  all  of  them.  No  doubt  my  wife  on 
her  way  to  the  office  feared,  at  every  step,  she'd  meet 
my  mangled  corpse. 

I  paid  no  attention  to  the  threat  of  Mrs.  Sharpnose; 


l66  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

but  entreated    my   wife  to  go  home,  and  all  would  he 
right. 

"But  John,"  she  pleadingly  said;  "you  are  not  going 
to  fight  that  hideous  Ophcleide?  He's  big  enough  to 
eat  you  up."  Then  hopefully  concluded  :  "Any  how, 
I  hope  Air.  Sleek  has  had  him  put  where  he  can't  hurt 
you,  before  this." 

"Mr.  Sleek!"  echoed  I.  "\Vhat  has  he  got  to  do 
with  it?" 

"Oh!     Didn't  you  know?"  in  a  surprised  tone. 

"Know  what?  Please  tell  me?"  I  asked,  rather 
anxiously. 

"You  know,  John,  I  was  so  frightened,  when  Mrs. 
Sharpnose  told  me,  and  showed  me  the  paper,  saying 
that  you  were  going  to  fight  a  duel,  with  great  broad- 
swords, with  that  great  big  Dutchman,  I  just  forgot  all 
about  that  impudent  Miss  Gay,  and  ^everything  else," 
here  she  hesitated. 

"Please  go  on  and  tell  me,  without  disparaging  al- 
lusions to  innocent  parties." 

Mrs.  Sharpnose  interposed  an  incredulous  shrug. 

"1  didn't  care  so  much  about  that,"  resumed  my 
wife,  "though  you  know  it's  wrong  to  carry  on  so, 
John." 

Mrs.  S.  here  interpolated  a  look — "yes,  and  you 
ought  to  hang  for  it,  you  brute." 

My  wife  faltering  again,  I  said,  with  rather  too  much 
asperity : 

"Mrs.  Smith,  if  you  can  disabuse  your  mind  of  these 
false  impressions  long  enough  to  make  a  sim})le  state- 
ment, please  do  so;  or   excuse    me,  when   I    insist  on 


ADDITIONAL    CALORIC,  167 

your  goiny  straight  home, like  a  sensil>le  vvoiiiaii.      Til 
explain  all  when  I  come." 

"I'll  bet  you  cant''' — twist  of  the  head  from  vSharp- 
nose. 

"Maybe  I  have  clone  wrong,  but  you  must  know  1 
(lid  what  I  tho — what  Mrs.  Sharpnose  said  was  the 
best,  and  she  seemed  to  know  more — " 

"I  don't  wish  to  know  what  Mrs.  Sharpnose  said  or 
did,"  I  interrupted. 

Here  "I  don't  wonder"    sneer  from  Mrs  S. 
"Do  tell  me,  my  wife,   in    as  few  words  as   you  can, 
what  you  did,"  I  insisted. 

"Mrs.  Sharpnose  said,"  again  began  Mrs.  Smith. 

"I  don't  wan't  ever  to  know  what  Mrs.  Sharpnose 
said,"  I  again  interrupted,  tartly. 

"I'll  have  you  to  understand,  Mr.  John  Smith,"  be- 
gan Mrs.  Sharpnose,  with  a  fire-cracker  delivery,  "my 
sayin's  is  as  good  as  your  sayin's,  and  my  doin's  is  a 
'nufF  sight  better'n  your  doin's,  and  you  needn't  turn 
up  your  nose  at  as  good  folks  as  you  dare  to  be,  any 
day;  jist  because  you  got  that  (denomination  for  'mare' 
of  a  little  ole  one-boss  town — so  I  do;  there!" 

After  this  bunch  of  explosives  were  exhausted,  Mrs. 
Sharpnose  tied  her  bonnet-strings  with  a  correspond- 
ing snappishness  that  threatened  strangulation,  gave 
her  head  a  spasmodic  toss,  and  with  a  snappo-sensatio- 
lachrymal  accent,  said — 

"Come  on,  sister  Smith,  I'm  not  agoin'  to  stand  here 
and  be  abused,  and  see  you,  poor  creatur,  treated  like 
a  Gallilee  slave,  I  ain't!"  and  she  started. 

My  wife    hesitated;  I    was    indifferent;  thinking  it 


l6S  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

was  the  best  way  to  end  the  disagreeable  interview  till 
I  could  explain  to  my  wife  at  home.  I  was  satisfied 
Mrs.  Sharpnose  could  not  be  driven  away  till  she 
heard  the  last  word. 

"Well,"  I  remarked  carelessly. 

"Well?"  echoed  my  wife,  inquiringly. 

"Well!"  snapped  Mrs.  Sharpnose,  sneeringly. 

"John,  I  was  going  to  tell  you  all  about  it,  but  you 
won't  let  me,"  said  my  wife. 

"Well,  go  on  now  and  tell  it  in  your  own  way.  I'm 
resigned;  my  time  is  worth  nothing. 

"Well,  I  was  gfoing  to  tell  you,"  she  resumed,  "Mrs. 
Sharpnose  said  it  was  the  best  way  to  have  Mr.  Oph- 
cleide  bound  over  to  keep  the  peace ;  that  was  the  way 
her  husband  did  when  Mr.  Filkins  was  going  to 
fight  him;  and  to  see  a  lawyer,  and  as  Mr.  Sleek's 
office  was  on  our  way,  and  she  told  me  he  was  the  best 
one,  we  went  there  to  get  his  advice." 

"You  did?  That  was  very  wise." 

"Tni  afraid  you  don't  think  so." 

"Oh,  you  ought  be  to  cautious,  you  know;  first  get 
the  advice  of  a  discreet,  peace-loving  friend  (?)  and 
next,  get  the  best  legal  counsel  from  an  honest  lawyer) 
then  you  aif  right." 

Mrs.  Sharpnose,  either  too  obtuse  to  sec  the  irony, 
or  so  disgustingly  egotistic  as  to  assume  that  she  was 
discreet  and  peace-loving,  1  couldn't  say  which — smiled 
approval. 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  I  rei)lic'(l,  ironically,  "(io  on  with 
y  our  story.'' 

"Mr.   Sleek   tolti    us   il    was  customary  to   get  out  a 


Ai>i)n  loNAi-  cAJ.oiuc.  169 

peace  wanaiit,  and   bind   over  the   parties  to  keep  the 
peace;  and,  like  a  gentleman,  said  he'd  first  have   Mr. 
Ophcleide  arrested  right  away." 
"Thunder!     He  did.?" 

"Yes,  wasn't  that  right?  I  dichi't  want  you  carved 
to  death  with  a  great  broadsword." 

I  told  Mrs.  Smith  it  was  not  exactly  right;  that  Mr. 
Sleek  was  more  to  blame  than  she.  I  explained  the 
whole  affair  the  best  I  could;  emphasizing  the  facts, 
that  there  had  been  no  challenge;  no  pistols  and  coffee 
for  two;  no  broadswords;  no  cutlasses,  cannon  or  co- 
lumbiads,  but  simply  a  blunder,  mutual,  growing  out 
of  the  fact  that  neither  one  of  us  understood  the  lan- 
guage of  the  other.  I  supposed  the  very  good  legal 
advice  she  had  received,  had  jDrevented  Mr.  Ophcleide 
from  calling  on  me  at  ten  o'clock,  when  we  were  to 
have  the  misunderstanding  explained.  That  I  must 
look  him  up,  not  to  fight  him,  but  to  get  him  out  of 
this  annoying  predicament.  That  was  all;  the  whole 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  to  believe  it,  and  no- 
thing to  the  contrary,  from  any  source;  and  go  home 
like  a  good  woman.  She  went,  followed  by  the  Sharp- 
nose,  whose  tragic  mien,  and  martial  tread,  and  em- 
jjhatic  slam  of  the  door  as  she  swept  grandly  out, 
made  me  cower  with  apprehension — that  the  end 
was  not  yet. 

Hello!  Here  comes  that  sky-rocket,  Flannagan,  up. 
I  knew  his  mitrailleuse  step.  He  shot  through  the 
door  without  knocking,  his  impetus  was  so  great. 

"Well,  Pat,  you  delivered  the  note?"  I  remarked 
interrogatively. 

"Arrah!  love  yer   sowl" — here   Mr.  Flannagan  had 


lyo  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

to  pause  for  breath,  he  was  "blowed,"  as  professionals 
term  it.  After  several  spasmodic  inspirations,  he  re- 
sumed— 

"An'  its  mesilf  as  did    thit  silf-same" — and    he  aj^ain 
ceased  from   exhaustion. 

"What  tires  you  so,  Mr.  Flannagan?  You  must 
have  been  running." 

"Not  rinnin  (deep  inspiration)  bat  a  bit  o'  tall  wark- 
in' — vez  say  whin  I — coom'd  twill — twill  Mr.  Hanner's 
stoor — an'  jist  as  I  was  aboot  to  inter — go  in  the  silf- 
same,  what — iver  does  yez  haner  think — think — iksipt 
— tap,  tap,  kam  an  the  showldher  o'  Misther  Flinnigin. 
Och,  its  mesilf  as  knowed  thit  same  tap,  taj),  an'  also 
the  jint  as  does  sich;  but  yez  say,  I  tindcd  loike  as  I 
was  in  the  daruk — an'  turerning  all  o'  a  suddint,  wi' 
me  insthrumint  riddy,  sez  I,  'an'  what  the  divil  manes 
all  this  row  ?  Can't  a  mon  bay  goin'  afther  a  bit  o'  an 
arrant  widout  some  middlesome  spalpeen  must  bay 
shivin  o'  his  face  intwill  it?  By  the  howly  Saint  Path- 
erick,  what  iver  is  it  yez  want  wi'  Mr.  Flinnigin  ther 
dav?'  Yer  haner  moost  a  parsayved  thit  Misther 
Flinnigin  parsayved  it  war  the  same  as  the  mairshal, 
wid  a  lagildockymint  in  'is  fist;  an'  its  mesilf  as  knows 
thim  papers  at  soight,  an'  sez  'c  to  me — sez  'e,  Misther 
Flinnigin,  you'r  moi  prisoner.  Thit's  jist  for  all  the 
worruld  what  'e  said." 

"You  were  arrested;  I  thought  as  much.  You  must 
excuse  me,  Mr.  Flannagan,  foi-  appearing  to  send  you 
where  vou  would  be  arrested.;  I  was  anxious  to  settle 
that  other  matter  of  the  duel.  You  would  have  been, 
sooner  or  later,  taken  into  custody  and  lined  or  im- 
prisoned.     I    nieanl    no    liann.      1    will    pay   your   fine 


ADDITIONAL    CALORIC.  I71 

and  the  costs  in  the  case  of  assault  against  IJlackniau 
this  time,  Pat,  because  you  are  honest  and  acting  ac- 
conHng  to  your  education  by  poHticians,  who  care  more 
for  themselves  than  you.  But  you  must  ne\er,  if  you 
want  me  for  a  friend,  think  that  you  must  fight,  and 
fight  all  the  time,  or  involve  yourself  in  all  sorts  of 
difticulties,  to  prove  that  you  are  an  honest,  faithful 
fellow,  and  a  true  friend.  What  did  the  marshal  do 
with  you?  How  did  you  deliver  the  note  after  arrest? 
How  much  was  the  fine  and  costs?  or,  if  it  was  neces- 
sary, who  went  your  bail?" 

"Dalavar  ther  note?  Afther  mearrist?  What  iver 
was  ther  fine?  An'  who  iver  wint  me  bail?"  asked 
Pat,  with  a  stare  of  blank  astonishment,  these  excla- 
mative  questions. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Flannagan,  how  did  you  manage  it?" 

"Will,  by  the  howly  jimpin  Moses!  an'  if  yez  ba  so 
badly  outen  it  as  to  balave  Pat  Flinnigin  is  arristed, 
thin  yez  haner  wud  stind  a  poverty-sthricken  show 
amang  thim  gintiles,  an'  shure  yer  wud,"  and  Pat 
gave  me  a  commiserating  glance. 

"You  told  me  you  were  taken  into  the  custody  of 
the  city  marshal,  as  you  were  entering  Mr.  Honore's 
door." 

"Faith  an'  thit's  thru  as  praichmint,  boot  yer  haner 
kens  'there's  mony  a  slip  twaxt  coop  an'  lap,'  "  and 
winking  at  me,  Mr.  Flannagan  continued:  "An' so 
yez  say,  Mr.  Patherick  Flinnigin  o'  Tipperary,  bain 
pacibly  inclined,  an'  falin  liberal,  jist  tho't  'e'd  give 
the  mairshal  baith  ther  coop  an'  ther  slip,  as  the  coop 
moight   ba  a  wee   bit   bitther   an'  not    the    koind    Mis- 


172  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

ther  Flinnigin  loikes,  an'  the  slip  was  for  all  the  wor- 
ruld  the  one  fur  to  hind  an  afficer,  ha!  ha!  ha!"  and 
Pat  gave  me  a  triumphant  look. 

"But  how  did  you  get  out  of  the  custody  of  the 
officer?" 

"Kistoody?"  he  repeated,  "an' thit's  what  yer  afther 
callin'  the  arrist?  an'  as  I  bafore,  praviously,  racintly 
said,  ther  afficer  gintly  tapped  me  an  ther  showlder, 
an'  it's  mesilf  as  was  wishin'  afther  a  harder  rhap,  for 
the  laist  bit  o'  cashus  belly  {casus  belli)  an',  I'm  think- 
ing thit  worud,"  said  Pat,  parenthetically,  "is  from 
ould  Cash  Clay,  the  abolitioner,  as  had  sich  a  sthrong 
stummick  for  foightin';  boot  inny  ways,  all  that  Pat 
Flinnigin  hoaned  fur,  was  a  smarut  rap  an'  the  hid 
wi'  his  batten,  instid  o'  a  gintle  tap  an  the  showlder 
wi'  his  paw;  thin  yez  say  I  wad  have  bin  jistifiable  in 
the  returrurnin  o'  his  plisint  saloot  wi'  me  favorite  in- 
sthramint,"  and  here  Pat  gave  his  shillalah  an  extra 
flourish. 

"Pat,  you  haven't  yet  told  nic  how  you  settled  the 
matter  of  arrest.     Let  me  know,  that  I  can  settle  it." 

"Arrist?  Nivcr  a  bit  o'  that  in  Misther  Flinnigin's. 
An'  shure  there's  nithin  twil  sittle  as  yit — an'  beggin' 
pairdon,  as  I  was  wishin'  fur  a  cashus  billy,  or  pravo- 
cation,  I  forgot  all  the  toimc  as  to  tlic  how's  o'  it,  I 
did  git  away." 

"How  did  von  manage  it,  Pat?"  I  impatiently  in- 
sisted. 

"An'  il"  1  nioost,  thin  I  moost,"  answered  Pat,  rather 
unwillingJN.  "^'c/.  sa\,  wliin  thit  silf  same  showlder- 
strap  gintly  tapped  me  an  the  showlder,  an'  ramarkcd, 
in  swate  terrums,  tint  I  was   'is   mate,  (meat)   fur  'salt 


ADDITIONAL    CALROIC.  I  73 

an'  battery,  I  jist  tauUl  'im  thit  1  was  in  a  (li\il  o'  a 
thirry  wid  a  jewel  missige,  an'  plaze  abide  by  tbe  door 
twill  I  coomed  agin,  an'  I  wad  convarse  wid  'im. 
Wad  yez  ivver  think,  boot  'e  did  thit  silf  same.  I 
thin  pushed  sthraighl  fur  Misther  Ilonore's  private 
room,  an'  gav'  'im  ther  note  in  parson.  He  rid  it,  an' 
sez  'e,  yez  can  till  Misther  Smith  thit  I'll  tind  to  it  im- 
magiately.  Thin  siz  I,  Misther  Ilonore,  I'm  a  wee 
bate  the  worus  fur  brith,  have  yez  as  mooch  as  a 
dhrink  o'  wather  by  yez?  There's  wather  in  the  boo- 
ket,  sez 'e;  an' sez  1,1  loikes  moine  frish;  an  sez  e', 
thin  go  twill  ther  poomj)  in  ther  back  yarud.  By  St. 
Patherick,  this  was  the  virra  worud  thit  I  was  fishin' 
fur.  Yez  can  jist  bet  yer  sowl  Misther  Flinnigin 
wastid  no  toime,  an'  as  I  had  businiss  thit  was  urgin'  o' 
me  to  go  through  ther  tin  shap  an  ther  ither  sthrate,  I 
imbraced  the  invitin'  apperchunity,  an  wint — an'  here 
is  Misther  Flinnigin,  as  I  praviously  ramarkt — at  yer 
sairvice." 

"And  the  marshal,  where  is  he?"  I  asked  with  con- 
cern. 

"Och!  an'  I  guiss  I  moost  hiv  overlookt  'im  in  me 
haste  to  bering  yez  th^  woruds  of  Misther  Ilanner." 
replied  Pat,  with  a  comic  expression. 

"Then  you  evaded  the  officer,  after  you  were  under 
arrest?     That's  all  wrong,  Pat." 

"Invadid  'im!  Not  a  bit  ov  it;  thit's  jist  for  all  the 
worruld  what  'ud  a  plazed  Pat  Flinnigin,  to  had  a 
thrial  o'  insthrumints  will  'im.  Invadid  'm? — not  at 
all,  at  all." 

And  Pat  thou<rht  this  was  satisfactorv.  1  laughed, 
and  then  remarked — 


1 74  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"You  mistake  me,  Pat,  I  meant  e  vaded,  or  dodged 
the  marshal.  You  must  go  back  and  place  yourself 
in  the  officer's  charge,  and  ask  him  to  please  come  with 
you  to  my  office." 

"Whe-ew — will,  I  niver!  An' all  fur  jintly  falin' wid 
me  scientayfic  insthrumint  the  phranoligical  boomps 
o'  thit  murtherin,  hookelbirry-eyed,pratie-nosed,  blath- 
erin  spalpeen  o'  a  Blickman?"  interrogatively  exclaim- 
ed Pat. 

A  knock  on  the  door — "Come  in." — Mr.  Ilonore 
entered. 

"Good  morning,  John,  how  goes  it?  The  canvass, 
I  mean." 

"Rather  mixed,"  I  replied. 

"I  should  think  so,"  he  resumed;  and  looking  at 
Pat:  "This  is  Mr.  Flannagan,  that  brought  your 
note?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  Mr.  Flannagan,  maybe  I  have  bad  news  for 
you,"  continued  Honore,  "but  the  city  marshal  is 
about  to  turn  my  store  upside  down  to  find  you.  He 
is  in  a  bad  humor;  he  told  me  he  arrested  you  at  the 
door,  and  you  begged  to  bring  me  the  note  and  then 
return  to  him.  The  last  he  saw  of  you  was  your  going 
into  my  private  room.  lie  vexed  me  sorely  with  an 
intimation  that  I,  or  some  one  about  the  store,  had  con- 
cealed you.  I  told  him  that  I  last  saw  you  going  to 
the  pump  for  water.  This  is  wrong,  Mr.  Flannagan, 
you  sliuuld  have  gone  back  immediately." 

"Fath,  an'  T  did,  sure,"  answered  Pat. 

"How?  1  dichri  see  yt)u  return  from  tlie  pump," 
pursued  Ilonore. 


ADDITIONAL  CALORIC.  I  75 

"Yez  say  it  was  jist  so,  Misther  Hanncr,"  bcjj^an  Pat, 
with  a  serious  intonation,  "whan  I  ^oth  a  good  dhrink 
o'  yer  good  wather,  an'  ycr  ken  its  all  the  toime  a 
wake  dhrink — it  waken'd  me  intint  a  wea  bit;  an'  I 
tho't  thin  a  kimprimise  wid  ther  mairshil  was  not  at 
all  bad;  so  I  jist  stud  firmly  by  the  kimprimise,  an' 
come'd  back  inther-immadiately." 

"How?"  inquired  Honore. 

"Explain  your  explanation,  Pat,"  said  I. 

"Will,  ycz  say,"  continued  Pat, "inther-immadiately  is 
betwaxt  an'  betwane;  that  is,  the  tin-shap  thit  I  coom'd 
thro'  was  betwaxt  and  betwane  the  mairshil  an'  the 
kilaboose;  so,  yez  say,  stindin'  farml}-  by  the  kimpri- 
prise  wid  ther  mairshil,  Mr.  Flinnigin  tak  the  inther- 
immadiate  coorse." 

I  had  to  laugh  at  Pat's  compromise  with  the  officer. 

Honore  smiled  rather  contemptuously,  and  I  thought 
was  going  to  lecture  Pat,  to  which  I  was  averse,  be- 
cause my  short  acquaintance  had  convinced  me  that  he 
was,  if  not  encouraged  or  used  by  bad  men,  trusty,  self- 
sacrificing,  and  honest;  and  I  determined  to  stand  by 
him,  as  he  often  afterwards  said  by  me,  "twill  ther  last 
day  in  ther  morurning."  So  I  quickly  interrupted 
Honore,  and  told  Pat  to  go  straight  to  the  marshal, 
deliver  himself  up,  and  ask  the  officer,  as  a  favor,  to 
come  with  him  here. 

"Fath,  an'  Til  do  it,"  said  Pat,  "boot  whativer  yez 
want  a  mon  to  give  up  bafore  'cs  whipped,  1  can't  say 
the  raison." 

"They  don't  whip  you,  Pat.  You  act  the  gentle- 
man; and  every  gentleman  obeys  the  laws. 


1*76  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"Thit  music  suits  the  car  o'  Pat  Flinnigan.  I'll  aff 
twill  the  mairshil  to  surrender  ancanditionally,  barrin 
me  soide  arrums;"  and  Pat  brandished  his  shillalah, 
and  was  gone. 

A. — "John,  let's  rest  till  to-morrow  night. 


MERCURY   ASCENDING. 


•77 


NIGHT  XL 

MERCURY    ASCENDING. 

Let's  see,  where  were  we?  Left  ofru])ruptl\-,  rather, 
with  Mr.  Honore  waiting  for  an  interview. 

A. — "Yes,  I  was  tired  with  writing,  and  rather 
wearied  with  your  Irish  friend." 

"I  can't  help  it;  I  can't  leave  Pat  out:  hut  to  pro- 
ceed; Mr.  Honore  continued,  after  Pat's  departure — 

"Well,  John,  you  said  the  affairs  of  the  canvass  were 
mixed.     Are  you  getting  discouraged?" 

"Fve  been  vacillating  between  encouragement,  that 
is,  your  support  and  my  desire  to  study  human  nature 
from  a  political  standpoint,  and  discouragement;  my 
earnest  desire  to  evade,  by  declining,  the  most  vexa- 
tious annoyances  of  my  life." 

"Oh,  you  must  go  on,"  he  resumed.  "There  is  one, 
I  was  going  to  say,  redeeming  trait  in  our  politics;  I 
will  say  rather,  a  foct,  which  renders  these  petty  an- 
noyances tolerable;  that  is,  the  more  honest  and  there- 
fore blameless  a  candidate  is,  the  more  he  is  subjected 
to  these  contemptible,  petty  aggravations.  Because,  it 
is  plain  to  discern  that  if  a  candiilate  runs  through  with 
successful  result  without  them,  it  is  proof  conclusive 
that  he's  all  right  witli  that  reprehensible  class  of  dead 
beats  and  bvnnmers  that  ought,  perforce  of  public  in- 
—23 


lyS  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

(lignatioii,  to  be  wiped  out  of  political  existence.  From 
extended  observation,  and  no  little  experience  in  poli- 
tics, I  have  long  ago  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  the 
man  who  jjets  the  fullest  measure  of  this  kind  of  abuse 
is  the  best  man  tor  ottice,  or  anything  else." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  I  replied,  "I  began 
to  think  that  I  must  be  a  doubtful  man,  as  I  never  had 
such  abuse  before.  I  tell  you  it  is  very  trying  on  me, 
very." 

"Very,  I  guess;  as  it's  vour  maiden  experience,"  he 
rejoined;  "but  did  vou  want  anything  be\ond  the 
great  duel  arranged?  Ha!  ha!  ha!  That  tca^v  a  mis- 
erable blunder,  from  beginning  to  end." 

"To  end?  It's  not  ended  yet,  that  I  know.  I'd  al- 
most forgotten,  thinking  over  other  complications,  that 
I  did  send  vou  a  note,  with  recjuest  to  learn  the  where 
abouts  of  Mr.  Ophcleide.  How  about  it?  Where  is 
her 

"Oh,  as  to  the  end,  I  think  it's  in  process  of  ulti- 
mate extinction,"  he  replied. 

"How?" 

"I'll  explain,"  he  continued.  "This  same  German 
has  been  in  several  difficulties,  on  account  of  his  lim- 
ited knowledge  of  our  language.  He  is  honest,  I'm 
told,  and  I  was  so  convinced,  on  conversing  with  him  in 
his  own  language.  Vet,  he's  like  most  honest  men, 
he's  confiding,  and  consequently,  easily  duped.  He 
was  designedly  sent  to  vou  by  one  of  Jones'  rascally 
friends,  who  foresaw  the  probal)lc  residt.  There  is  an 
American  in  ihe  band,  whose  business  it  is  to  make  all 
contracts  for  fiiiiiishing  music,  but  \<>u  see  this  con- 
tractor, who  speaks  nothing  but  l'2nglish,  is  also  a 
Jones  man." 


MERCURY   ASCENDING. 


179 


"Is  it  possible  that  such  dirty,  httlc  tricks — 1  was 
about  to  say,  so  far  beneath  the  level  of  common  hon- 
esty, l)ut  will  leave  honesty  entirely  out  and  sav — so 
far  below  the  scum  of  common  meanness,  that  a  man 
of  ordinary  integrity  never  even  dreams  of  their  exis- 
tence, much  less  stoops  to  recognize  them;  should  be 
practiced  to  accomplish  such  an  important  end  as 
the  election  of  a  trustworth}-  servant  for  the  people?" 

"Aye,  John,  it's  not  only  possible  and  probable,  but 
practical  and  practiced — many  such  tricks,  and  of  their 
magnitude  and  variety,  in  some  cases,  you  have  as  yet 
formed  no  conception." 

"1  don't  wish  to  see  them  on  a  larger  scale,"  I  aii- 
sweretl.     "What  did  Mr.  Ophcleide  do,  or  say?" 

"He  said,"  continued  llonore,  "that  you  made  a  con- 
tract, without  price,  for  music  at  the  beer  garden,  Sun- 
day; that  this  morning,  when  he  called  for  the  money, 
you  denied  it  and  challenged  him  to  fight  a  duel  at  10 
o'clock,  at  your  office.  I  laughed  at  him,  and  explained 
in  German  how  it  was.  He  saw  the  mistake,  and 
laughed  too;  then  told  me  it  was  all  right.  1  was 
vexed  though,  at  the  ill-advised  precipitancy  of  your 
friends  in  having  him  imprisoned." 

"Imprisoned?  Is  that  so?  Let's  go  and  get  him 
out  forthwith,"  said  I,  rising.  "I  remember  Mr.  Flan- 
nagan  telling  me  he  guessed  Mr.  Ophcleide  was 
'lookin'  thro'  the  tin  o'  dimonts.'     Come!" 

"Keep  your  seat,  John,"  commanded  Honore.  "The 
Herr  is  free  again.  I  was  told  some  time  before  I  got 
your  note,  that  Mr.  Sleek  had  placed  him  under  bond 
of  $2,000,  to  keep  the  peace;  which  bond,  of  course, 
his  cautious  friends  would  not  endorse.  So  to  jail  he 
went.     I  went  on  the  bond,  and  had  him  released  in  a 


l8o  JOHN     SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

few  moments  after  the  key  was  turned  on  him.  He 
was  happy.  The  exphination  was  easy,  and  I  cau- 
tioned him  against  a  few  well  known  bummers;  for 
which  he  thanked  me  sincerely." 

"I'm  under  a  thousand  obligations  to  you,"  I  grate- 
fully said. 

"Oh  no;  not  at  all,"  he  answered.  "I  must  go. 
Any  thing  else  I  can  do?" 

"No;  except,  if  you  see  Mr.  Ophcleide,  send  him  to 
me,  as  I  wish  to  pay  him  something  for  his  services 
under  the  misunderstanding." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  John.  He's  satisfied;  happy  as 
a  lark,  and  no  doubt  drinking  ein,  zwei  hundert  glas 
bier  to  Herr  Schmidt.     Good  bye.     Go  ahead." 

And  this  good,  very  good,  man  was  gone.  If  one 
tithe  of  our  public  men  were  like  unto  him, then  a  po- 
litical millennium  would  not  be  far  olF. 

A. — "Wasn't  it  about  time  you  were  getting  around 
among  the  boys,  John,  if  you  were  going  to  run?" 

That  is  just  what  was  passing  through  my  mind  at 
that  time.  1  didn't  know  just  wlierc  to  start,  or  any 
thing  about  it;  hut  knew  1  had  to  do  something; 
wished  I'd  asked  llonore.  You  sec,  they  had  torn  me 
all  to  pieces,  and  hadn't  given  me  time,  between  aggra- 
vations, to  collect  myself,  much  less  time  to  electioneer. 
I  concluded  to  go  out  and  walk  around  any  how,  and 
see  a  few  friends.  Taking  my  hat,  I  was  on  the  point 
of  leaving,  when  up  came  an  impudent,  snub-nosed, 
rcd-liaired,  freckled-faced  ^oy,  witli  a  folded  paper  in 
his  hand:  tlirusting  the  paper  at  mc  in  an  insolent 
manner,  lie  growled: 

"Mr.  Slick  says  as  how  he  wants  you  lo  settle  this 
little  ^viUiam'  riglil  olf." 


MERCURY   ASCENDING.  iSl 

"Mr.  Sleek?  Little  William  ?— that  your  name? 
Well,"  and  by  this  time  I  had  the  paper  unfolded,  and 
saw  the  purport  of  it — antl  remarked  : 

"William,  this  seems  to  be  a  hill  for  legal  advice, 
and—" 

"Lordy,  ain't  you  green,  the';  didn't  you  never  hear 
us  hoys  call  'imi  williams,  for  a  joke.  ]M\-  name's  not 
William,  nor  nary  H'lW.  I'm  Sam  Stallins — the  boys 
calls  me  turke\'-aig  vSam — cos  my  phvsimahog's  freck- 
led." 

Thus  didactically   discoursed  this  street  Bedouin. 

"I  don't  wish  any  more  remarks,  William — or  Sam," 
I  said,  seeing  the  impudent  little  scamp  was  trying  to 
poke  fun  at  me. 

A. — "John,  I'm  inclined  to  the  hoy's  opinion." 

"Yes,  I  admit  I  was  green,  very,  then;  1  think  I 
tougliened  some  since.  Here's  that  hill  of  Sleek's.  It 
makes  me  mad  ri<rht  now: 

"BcNKUMViT.T.K,   April  6th,   iS68. 
"Office  oi- Judas  I.  Sleek, 

Attor)iey  and  Counselor  at  La7v, 

No.  2S,  S.  Broad  St. 

Dk.  J.  SiViirn,  Esq: 

To  J I  DAS  I.  Si,ki:k,   Dk, 

To  IcL^iil  advice  per   wile $JO  oo 

"         "      services  in  peace  warrant  process -5  oo 


$45  GO 
Bv  cash  in  advance 25  oo 


To  balance $ jo  00 

On  the  blank    space    below    was    written,   in   a  hand 
and  orthography  dillerent,  the  following: 


I  S3  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

Dear  Smith:  We  have  fixt  the  ole  beer-kag.  I  put  him 
whar  the  dorgs  won't  bite  him,  and  done  it  dorg  cheep  and 
quick  too.  That  Htle  summ  you  loit  (?)  me  yisterdy  I  credit 
you  by  on  this  little  "william."  (There's  where  Sam  got  the 
slang,)  "to  make  folks  think  there  was'nothing  rong.  I  disbuss- 
ed  it  for  votes  for  you  as  I  knowd  you  intendid  (?)  this  is  entry 
news  (entre  iions)\  ^-ou  know  I'm  safe  and  won't  blab.  Please 
to  forrerd  the  litle  balants  by  the  barrer,  as  I  want  to  be  lively 
with  the  boys  to  nite  in  your  behalf.     Mums  the  word. 

Yours  confidenshully,  J.  I.  S. 

P.  S. — Burn  this  soon  as  settled.  J.  I.  S. 

P.  S.— I  keeps  ^  fac  'similliar''  of  all  my  papens.  S." 

Great  Caesar!  I  exclaimed,  after  reading  this  mar- 
ginal note,  and  thinking  of  the  comprehensive  scope 
and  Briarean  reach  of  the  villainy  couched  in  it.  A 
casual  glance  at  it  will  disclose,  saliently — lying,  cow- 
ardice, slander,  cruelty,  inhumanity,  avarice,  hribery, 
corruption,  treason,  and  thelt.  It  is  a  marvelous 
composition,  when  its  chirographic  brevity  is  com- 
pared with  its  endless  and  varied  criminal  in- 
tent. I  could  see  that  some  of  the  tentacles  of  this 
devil-fish  had  alreath'  fastened  on  me,  and  others 
were  reaching  eagerly  forth  to  grasp  what  was 
left.  Every  time  you  look  at  it  a  new  tentacle  has 
formed.  I  leave  the  study  of  this  rare  specimen  to  the 
curious  reader,  after  stating  a  few  of  its  merits,  lie 
borrowed  my  money  vSunday,  he  said,  to  pay  the 
preacher.  He  steals  that  by  credit  on  this  gouging 
l)ill;  enters  the  credit  cash  advanced — that  is,  1  paid 
him  in  advance,  to  imjustly  arrest  and  impri.son  Oph- 
cleide,  because  1  was  a  cowaid.  lie  says  he  spent  that 
mniR'v  for  me,  and  calls  me  a  byi)ocrile  and  liar  when 
1  made  ihe  loan,  as  he  understood,  I  nieaiil  him  to  be 
bribed  and  corrupted — so  I  must  be,  too,  as  he  puts  it — 


MERCURY   ASCENDING.  1S3 

he  threalfiis  lo  expose  me  on  his  own  niahcious  Ibrge- 
ries,  when  he  says  he  keeps  -a  far  '•'•siniilliar''''  of  all  his 
pajDers — and  this  threat  meant  that  1  must  suhmil  to 
he  rohhed  of  the  "halants"  due.  Oh,  its  no  use  U)  try 
to  measure  the  length  and  hreadth,  nor  sound  the 
depth  of  this  little  lahyrinth  of  scoundrelism. 

A. — "Well,  what  did  you  do?  Didn't  keep  'Turkey- 
aig  Sam'  waiting  all  that  time?" 

"I  told  the  hoy  to  go  tell  Sleek  to  send  in  his  hill  like 
an  honorable  man,  and  if  I  owed  him  anything,  I 
would  pay  it.  The  hoy  had  come  in  with  a  growl; 
he  went  out  with  a  scowl." 

A.— "Next!     As  the  barbers  say." 

"Next  was  coming  up  before  the  last  got  down,  and 
I  heard  a  spirited,  though  short,  and  highly  encourag- 
ing dialogue  between  next  and  last,  on   the   stairway." 

"Hello!  Turkey  egg!  Sick?  What  you  doin'  up 
thar?" 

"Nary  sick.  Bony;  jist  been  up  to  settle  a  small  will- 
iam  wid  the  lord  mare — and  done  you  think,  Bony,  the 
durned  old  mahogany-headed  Jonas  didn't  know  what 
William  meant;  tho't  'twas  my  name.  It'll  be  a  good 
un  to  tell  ole  Slick — he's  goin'  to  beat  the  iillirt  out'n 
his  shut  any  how.  Cos  I  hearn  Slick  say  so  this  very 
mornin'." 

To  this  Bony  replied : 

"I  done  know;  Pap  was  agin  Mr.  Smith  twell  that 
dogoned  Irish  Pat  frailed  him  so  bad.  It's  pretty 
skeery  with  Pap.  lie  thinks  he's  gwine  to  peg  out, 
and  says  if  he  don't,  he'll  vote  for  Doctor  Smith.  I'm 
jist  a  goin'  for 'im  now,  and  must  hurry;  bye,  bye, 
Turk."     And  Bony  came  up  and  in,  and  spake: 

"My  pap — that's   Mr.    Blackman — says    he    wants 


184  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

you  to  come  down  and  see  him;  he's  got  his  head  hurt, 
an'  to  come  soon  as  vou  kin." 

I  went  promptly  with  Bony  to  see  his  father.  This 
call  was  a  surprise;  from  what  occurred  at  my  house 
Sunday  morning,  I  supposed,  very  naturally,  that 
Blackman  was  an  implacable  enemy  after  that  disa- 
greeable interview,  and' here  he  was  soliciting  my  pro- 
fessional services. 

A. — "  Oh,  John,  you  know  that  imminent  death  is 
the  only  power  that  can  torture  from  many  rascals 
what  little  of  honesty  there  is  left  in  them." 

I  found  Blackman  seriously  injuretl.  Mr.  Flanna- 
gan  had  "cooltivated  'is  phranoligical  devilopmints" 
altogether  too  vigorously.  The  skull  was  frac- 
tured in  one  place,  and  the  entire  scalp  pummeled  in- 
to a  pulp.  I  feared  inflammation  of  the  brain,  or  its 
membranes,  or  traumatic  erysipelas:  either  or  all.  I 
dressed  the  man's  wounds,  and  enjoined  him  to  keep 
quiet;  talk  with  nobody.     Here  he  feebly  interrupted: 

"Dr.  Smitli,  let  me  say  a  few  words  to  you,  an'  then 
I'll  be  still.  1  didn't  mean  to  treat  you  so  bad,  but 
other  people,  some  as  perfesses  to  be  your  political 
friends,  'specially  that  Farrin,  give  me  money  and  told 
me  to  do  all  I  could  to  beat  you.  I  kinder  feel  like  I 
ain't  gwine  to  pull  through,  an'  I  know  you  are  a  good 
doctor,  and  a  good  man,  and  them's  the  kind  a  feller 
wants  'round  when  he's  goin'  to  go  up  the  flume.  I- 
I'd  vote-vote  for  you  if  I  couUl  git  out;  but,  oh,  how 
my  head  hurts — it's-a-swimmin',"  and  he  had  fainted. 

I  gave  him  resloratiyes,  and  when  ho  re\  ived  told 
him  not  to  say  another  word;  admit  no  visitors;  kec]) 
tlie  room  dark  and  (juiel.      All  this  1  told  his  wile,  and 


MERCURY   ASCENDINO.  185 

promisins^  to  call  in  the  evening,  T  went  away  enjoining 
quiet. 

A. — "How  did  your  injunction  of  perfect  quiet  hold, 
John,  as  the  lawyers  say  ?" 

"Hold!  It  wasn't  half  hour  after  ni\-  lea\ing,  till  it 
was  thoroughly  dissolved  by  at  least  a  dozen  politi- 
cian vultures  hovering  over  that  dying  vote." 

Nearing  my  office  door,  I  heard  a  loud  and  excited 
altercation  in  the  hall  above.  First  a  voice  in  perenij:)- 
tory  tones,  i  didn't  recognize: 

"Come,  you  must  go  with  me,  and  I  don't  want  you 
to  bring  me  on  any  fool's  errand  any  more,  Mr.  Pat- 
rick." ^ 

Then  the  Gatling-gun  delivery  of  Mr.  Flannagan 
bombarded  my  ear,  with  the  following  volley: 

"Faith  an'  by  the  howly  jimpin  Moses  'e  tould  me 
to  bering  yez  sthraight  here  wid  me,  an'  it's  mesilf  as'll 
hould  yez  jist  where  yez  ba  twill  ould  Gabril  l)louse 
'is  thrumpit  or  Janny  Smceth  cooms  agin." 

I  hastened  up  stairs,  and  found  that  Pat  had  reversed 
the  legal  status  of  affairs.  He  had  the  marshal  under 
arrest,  and  had  so  kept  him  for  some  little  time.  It 
was  fortunate  that  I  came  at  this  juncture,  because  the 
marshal  had  come  with  Pat  as  an  accommodation  to 
both  of  us;  but  when  he  found  me  absent,  he  suspected 
Pat  of  trifling  with  him,  and  he  then  told  Pat  he  must 
go  to  the  police  magistrate's  oflice.  Pat  had  tried  all 
arguments  except  his  favorite  one,  the  shillalah,  and 
had  just  transposed  official  position,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  maintaining  his  self-vested  rights  by  the  dis- 
play and  use  of  his  credentials  (the  shillalah)  when,  as 
I  said,  I  fortunately  came  up.  I  must  say  here,  that 
there  was  another  far  greater  and  surer  preventive  of 
—24 


l86  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

serious  results,  under  such  circumstances,  than  my 
timely  arrival ;  I  allude  to  the  good  sense  and  manly 
conduct  of  the  marshal.  He  happened — (I  mean  this) 
happened  to  be  a  sensible  and  a  good  man,  and  instead 
of  promptly  (without  a  word  of  explanation,  and  in 
accordance  with  a  fearfully  growing  custom)  drawing 
his  revolver  and  shooting  (as  any  murderous  coward 
will  do  when  he's  got  a  legal  advantage)  down  this 
honest  but  impetuous  Irishman,  under  the  plea  of  re- 
sisting an  officer;  this  marshal  quietly,  and  in  a  gentle- 
manly manner,  listened  to  my  explanation.     The  affair 

was  legally  settled  by  the  payment  of a  visit  to  the 

magistrate's  office,  where  it  was  proven  that  Mr. 
Flannagan  received  the  first  blow,  and  only  acted  in 
self-defense  in  punishing  Blackman. 

The  trial  over,  I  was  plucked  aside,  confidentially, 
(may  be  some  other  candidate  has  experienced  this) 
by  the  sick  (.'*)  man,  Mr.  Arndul.  This  martyr  of  re- 
publican institutions  disclosed  to  me,  in  heartrending 
tones,  the  startling,  almost  incredible  fact,  that  he  had 
used  the  "little  mite"  I  sent  him  the  day  before  in  the 
note,  to  set  a  couple  of  the  boys  all  right,  and,  as  T  men- 
tally concluded,  lost  sight  of,  yea,  inhumanly  neglected, 
like  a  generous  man,  the  wants  of  his  starving  family 
and  himself,  to  simply  set  two  of  the  bo}'s  all  right  for 
me.  Was  there  ever  such  heroic  abnegation  for  a 
friend?  1  told  Mr.  Arndul  that  his  note  of  the  pre- 
vious day,  to  the  elFect  that  he  was  sick,  and  had  been 
so  for  several  days,  didn't  comport  with  his  present 
appearance,     lie  explained  satisfactorily,  thus: 

"Yer  sec.  Dr.,  I've  had  so  much  trouble  I  can't  scase- 
ly  write  what  I  think.      If  I    said  /  was   sick,  I  meant 


MERCURY  ASCENDING.  1S7 

ter  say  it  was  my  wife  an'  both  the  httle  ones,  and  no- 
thin'  to  eat  as  ag:rees  for  sick  folks." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  your  famih'  is  suffering-  for 
food,  Mr.  Arndul?"  I  asked  incredulously,  for  I  didn't 
altogether  believe  the  sick  man's  story. 

"Yes — ye-es,"  he  faltered  tearfully. 

Reluctantly  I  gave  him  a  five  dollar  bill,  and  told 
him  to  go  straight  and  supply  his  immediate  wants, 
and  report  to  me  next  day.  "And,  I  had  forgotten — 
where  do  you  suppose  I  got  that  money  ?" 

A. — "Suppose  you'd  likely  have  that  amoiuit  al)out 
your  person — though  I  know  Sleek  and  the  sick  man 
exhausted  your  pocket  change  the  day  liefore." 

"Yes,  and  those  continual  disturbances  had  not  let 
me  have  time  to  get  my  pockets  replenished — so  it 
was  accidental — entirely  so,  that  I  came  by  that  par- 
ticular bill.  I  got  it  for  my  surgical  services  to  Mr. 
Blackman." 

A.— "Blackman?" 

"None  other.  As  I  had  forgotten  to  mention  it  in 
the  proper  place,  I  should  omit  it  here,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  sermon  he  delivered  when  he  handed  me  that 
bill." 

A. — "Sermon?  I  thought  he  wasn't  to  say  another 
word." 

"He  would  do  it.  I  was  leaving;  he  beckoned  me 
to  the  bed,  pointed  to  his  pantaloons  with  a  gesture 
that  he  wished  them;  I  passed  them  to  him;  he  took 
out  the  money  and  handing  it  to  me,  said  in  a  very 
feeble  voice — 

"Here,  Dr.,  take  this;  its  the  last  of  the  money  I  got 
from  Farrin  to  beat  you;  1  can   see    now   it's  better  to 


iS8  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

pay  money  to  good  men,  to  do  good,  than  to  pay  it  to 
bad  ones,  to  do  bad." 

To  all  my  objections  to  taking  it — all  entreaties  to 
keep  it  himself — he  shook  his  head  in  the  negative. 

On  my  way  from  the  magistrate's  office  to  my  own, 
I  passed  and  called  in  at  the  post-office.  The  clerk, 
with  a  comical  leer,  handed  me  these  communications: 

A. — "John  Smith,  do  3011  expect  me  to  copy  that 
pile  of  papers?     There's  a  mail-bag  full." 

"Oh  no;  only  what  you  deem  necessary-  to  the  pur- 
pose. That  is,  give  a  "sj^ecimen  of  the  handwrite"  of 
each  class  of  a  man's  political  friends." 

A. — "Then   I'll  classify  and  number  them.     One  of 
each  class   is  sufficient;  anyhow  it    must  do,  or  you'll 
have  to  employ  a  corps  of  clerks." 

"Yes.  Leave  the  heading  and  date  off,  as  that's 
understood." 

[No.   I — FooIisJily  Ecclesiastical^^ 

I^ROTHER  Smith:  At  a  meeting  of  the  Elders  of 
the  Church  of  the  Holy  Trinil)  ,  ().  S.,  it  was  resolved 
to  appoint  five  several  Elders  to  constitute  an  execu- 
tive session,  vvliose  especial  duty  it  should  be  to  make 
diligent  and  thorough  inquiry  concerning  certain  char- 
ges preferred  against  you  by  our  immaculate  pastor, 
Rev.  G.  F.  Bonham,  D.  D,,  and  our  good  Elder  Cold- 
man.  Therefore,  you  arc  hcrcbv  cited  to  appear  he- 
fore  said  session,  in  tiie  above  mentioned  church,  at  10 
of  tlie  clock  A.  M.  Tuesday,  April  yth,  A.  D.  1868,  to 
tlien  and  there  make  answer  to  tiie  several  charsres  of 
ungodly  walk  and  con\ersation,  and  conduct  unbecom- 
ing a  Christian. 

F.  G.  Bonham,  D.D.,  Mod. 
^''rs  in  Christ, 

J.   C,  Si'ooNEV,  Sec. 


MERCURY   ASCENDING.  1S9 

"Do  you  think  "Y'rs  in  Clirist"  ou<;hl  to  be  used  in 
such  a  connection?" 

A. — ''It's  very  susceptible  of  blasphemous  construc- 
tion by  thoughtless  persons.     Shall  I  erase  it?" 

"If  thoughtless  persons  only  will  misconstrue  it,  let 
it  stand.  They  certainly  must  know  this  whole  can- 
vass has  been,  so  far  as  I'm  concerned,  a  series  of  just 
such  outrageous  misconstructions  as  a  blasphemous 
view  of  that  would  be:  all  founded  in  ignorance  and 
dishonest)." 

A. — "That  session  might  have  waited  till  the  elec- 
tion was  over." 

[No.  3. — Professionally    Jealous?^ 

Af/slcf  JouN  Smith — Sir:  I  understande  from  Mr. 
Farrin  that  you  said  it  was  luckeye  fo:"  Mi\  Blackman 
that  you  was  cald  to  dress  his  woonds  as  he  wood  not 
of  bin  in  the  land  of  the  livin  ef  I'der  went.  This 
kind  of  kondux  ain't  phizycal  ettyket.  Some  peeple's 
awful  stuck  up  at  a  little  offis. 

Conteniptblcy  Yr'n, 

J.  Peleg  Swettam,  M.  D. 

[No.  3. — '•'•  B lac kmai ling ly''''  Avaricious^ 

John  Smith,  Esq. — Sir  the  widd(nv  Gay's  first  hus- 
bantl's  sister-in-law  come  this  morning  to  solicit  my 
perfessional  servises  to  institoot  legal  proseedings 
against  you  in  next  lirm  of  the  cirkit  court,  in  action 
for  slandering  her  poor  dead  brotherinlaws  widdows 
child  by  her  seckund  husband:  case  is  intitled  on  breef 
— Fanny  Gay  vs.  John  Smith. 

Y'rs  pcrfessionally, 

JirOAS    I.    Sl.KEK. 

P.  S. — Dear  Smith  by  sendin  ^■ou^  old  friend  a  check 
or  sponds  for  the  balants  on  the  Oflclyd  case  and  tellin 
me   to  go   ahead    I    can   fix    this  up.     it  may  cost  you 


190  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

thowsands  of  dollurs,  but  I  never  was  the  man  who 
could  stand  it  to  see  as  good  a  man  as  vou  are  robbed 
by  desighnin  pussons.  Its  agin  my  princerpals,  an'  I 
doant  like  to  act  on  the  opposition  side.  But  you  know 
Lawyers  has  to  have  a  retainder — burn  as  sune  as  read. 
Yrs  in  Conferdants, 

J.  I.  s. 

[No.  4. — Socially  Fhia}iciali\ 

Johnny,  old  fel.,  you've  got  to  go  for  the  bhoys  to 
night  in  a  grand  old  hi(gh)lar(k)i(I)ous(us)  style. 
There  may  not  be  a  feast  of  "reason  and  flow  of  soul," 
but  there's  got  to  be  a  mighty  sight  of  greasin'  with 
the  flowing  bowl.  Now,  Johanness,  if  you  want  an  X 
or  XX's  scientifically  spread  over  the  broadest  paying- 
surface,  I'm  your  whitewasher.  Drop  a  check  in  P. 
O.  payable  to  undersigned  for  whitewashing.  See 
the  dodge?      I'll  call  at  P.  O.  6  p.  m. 

Y'rs  in  love, 
J.  Melanctiion   LaCleve. 

[No.  5. — Financially  National?^ 

Johannes  Schmidt:  Sie  habcn  nicht  ])v  mein 
freund  Ilerr  Ofkleite  recht  gethan —  oder  rite  dun. 
Du  beest  ein  grosser  von  pig  mann,  aber  you  sheets 
ihm  nut  der  kondragdt  mit  der  pier-carten  und  wunche 
ihm  todt  VAX  machen  heem  kil  mit  ter  tam  shewel — vat 
you  calls  heem  all  der  zeit  de  time.  Ilcrr  Shones  vas 
verscheideidene  mal  das  vas  several  dimes  pv  mein 
sal-Ion  und  shusl  ba\s  der  geld — nuimiy  all  der  dime 
shust  als  wasser  fei-  der  poys.  Vou  cooins  nicht  von 
dime. 

Fkiiz    Wi[.iii;i,m    1)i{  iciiukk. 

[No.  6, — Hypocritically  Conjidential  and  Politically 
ycaluus.^ 

11(1)1.  Dr.  JOHN  SMirii:  Sir:  I  wiili-  as  a  friend. 
^  ou  must    \\  aUh    tiiosc    uniflial)U-    Irish.      ^'(>^l  know 


MERCURY  ASCENDING.  I9I 

best,  but  I  would  advise  you  to  decline.  There  is  some 
traitor  in  the  camp  stirrinj^  up  the  Irish  democrats 
against  you. 

Your  true  friend, 

Farrin. 

When  you  compare  the  contents  of  that  note  with 
what  Blackman  did  and  said,  would  it  be  too  incredu- 
lous to  doubt  this  true  friend? 

A. — "Not  much.     Here's — " 

[No.  6. — Personally  Selfish?[ 

Hon.  John  Smith,  M.  D. — Dear  Friend:  I 
have  been  actively  engaged  in  a  thorough  canvass  in 
your  behalf.  I'll  continue  the  good  work  till  the  last 
stronghold  of  the  enemy  is  captured.  Any  sugges- 
gestions?  If  so,  like  to  communicate.  All  O.  K.  so 
far.      This  is  between  us. 

Y'rs  Politically  and  Frat'ly, 

Dyer  P,  Hanos. 

P.  S.     Could  you  support  me  for  City  Marshal  ? 

D.  P.  II. 

[No.  8. — Honestly    Confidcntial.\ 

Dr.  John  Smith:  I  write  this  to  inform  you  that 
that  humbug  Irishman  and  pretended  Catholic,  Farrin, 
IS  not  fit  to  trust.  He  pretends  in  a  place  where  you 
have  got  friends  to  be  sorter  for  you,  but  always  says 
something  bad.  I  tried  him  on  this  morning,  pretend- 
ing that  I  was  for  Jones,  and  I  nabbed  him  the  slickest. 
He  is  a  snake  in  the  grass. 

Y'rs  truly, 

Mike. 

[No.  9. — Domestically  Avenging?[ 

Mister  doctor  John  Smith  Sir  I  shill  expext  you  to 
render  dew^  appollergy  to  my  wife  Sary  Ann  Sharp- 


19-  JOHN  SMITH,   DEMOCRAT. 

nose  for  your  uiijentelmanly  langwidge  and  coiiduc 
toads  the  same  whilst  pressence  in  3'our  doctor  shop 
this  morning.  You  can  do  so  by  eyther  word  of  mouth 
or  virbul. 

Y'rs, 

Phii^ander  Sharpnose. 

p.  S.     My  wife  makkes  me  write  this  to  you. 

P.S. 

A. — "Which  form  of  'ajopollergy'  did  you  adopt, 
'yirbul  or  word  of  mouth  ?' " 

"Neither.  The  apology  in  the  P.  S.-  was  ample. 
Most  through  with  your  everlasting  classitication  ?" 

A. — "Only  one  more." 

[No.    10. — Purely  Honest?^ 

Dear  John:  You  are  really  going  to  run  for  olhce. 
ril  support  you  with  all  my  might.  Let  me  say  can- 
didly, as  you  always  wish  a  friend  to  talk,  T  think  you 
are  a  D.  F.  You  can  interpret  these  initials  truthfully 
as  meaning  a  Dear  Fellow — or  equally  truthful,  oth- 
crivz'se,  as  you  deem  proper. 

Y'rs,  &c., 

C.  Andor. 

A. — "Now,  John,  I  have  culled  this  motle}'  mass — 
I  can  think  of  no  other  name — of  political  Hy-blows. 
Nearly  all  of  them,  with  one  or  two  rare  exceptions, 
act  as  such  on  tlic  body  politic.  They  are  deposited 
by  those  swarms  of  miseralije  insects  that  instincti\  ely 
foresee  corruption.  1  have  given  a  sample  of  the  Re- 
ligious, Moral,  the  Etiiical,  National,  Political,  Finan- 
cial, Social  and  Personal.  There  is,  in  nearly  ull,  the 
never  varying  characteristic:  that  is,  they  arc  directly 
or  indirectly — for  No.  I  financially.  Who  was  Mr.  C. 
Andor?     The  signature  is  evidently  a  uo/n  dc  fl Killed 


MERCURY   ASCENDING. 


'93 


"Yes;  he  was  one  of  my  best  friends." 

A. — "I  should  think  as  much  from  the  tenor  of  the 
note." 

"Why?" 

A. — "Because  it  was  very  good  advice  if  you  had 
taken  it.  You  didn't  need  the  office;  it  cost  money, 
time  and  trouble;  didn't  pay.  You  made  active  ene- 
mies, lost  passive  friends;  you  were  considered  honest 
before,  doubted  by  some  after;  you  lost  half  the  confi- 
dence you  had  in  human  nature  and  honesty,  which 
goes  far  to  mar  your  happiness  in  this  world.  All 
this  you  lost,  and  for  what  in  exchange?  The  doubt- 
ful honor  of  running  for  an  annoying  office  in  a  third 
rate  city." 

"Then  the  D.  F.  isn't  far  wrong?" 

A. — "No,  truly.     Let's  rest  till  to-morrow  night." 


—25 


ly4  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 


"XIIth  night. 


OR,    WHAT    YOU    WILL." 


"When  I  was  on  my  way  to  dinner  — " 

A. — "To  dinner?  Did  they  give  you  time  for 
meals?" 

"Not  much.  However,  I  was  on  the  way  to  this  one 
meal,  when  I  was  accosted  by  a  boy,  who  thrust  at  me 
a  bank  bill,  remarking" — 

"Pap  says  that's  'founterkit,'  an'  ain't  wuth  shux." 

"What  do  you  mean,  my  son?  What  can  I  do  for" 
you?" 

"The  ole  rooster  said  as  how's  I'sc  to  see  yer,"  an- 
swered this  filial  Arab,  "an'  git  a  good  un  fer  it." 

I  examined  the  bill  and  found  it  a  base  counterfeit. 
I  then  asked  the  boy  who  was  his  father,  and  how  and 
when  he  got  that  bill. 

"I'^lunxy  an'  Yin  an'  lilacky  calls  'im  Bogus  I>ill — 
an'  most  evcrylioch,  but  'taint  'is  name:  'is  right  name 
is  William  Arndul,"   he  explained. 

"^'cs,  I  recollect,  his  wife  and  children  are  sick;  how 
is  your  mother?      How  maii\'  cliildrcn  arc  tiierc?" 

"vSick  !"   he  exclaimed  in  astonishment. 

"Yes,  w)ur  fatluT  (old  me  that  slic  and  two  children 
were  sick." 

"Sick!  (jcewliilikins,"  here  he  whistled  and  repeat- 
t'd,  "Sick!  well,  I  wonder  ef  the  ole  rooster  tolc  sicli 


"ok   what   vou   will.  HJ^ 

a  dogoned  lie — sick!  ef  you'd  'r  seed  her  vv:illop  the 
oie  chicken  his'  night  for  com  in'  at  niichiight  chuck  full 
or  rotgut,  yer'd  think  she  warnt  ailin  considhul." 

"The  children  are  sick?     How  are  they?" 

"Well,  ef  I  aint  kerflummux'd!"  he  exclaimed,  with 
affectionate  pathos.  "Don't  the  ole  skeezicks  heat  all 
fer  whappers?  Ther  aint  but  us  two — Bil  an' me.  IJil 
run  away  las'  week — nary  children  sep  me.  1  aint 
ailin'  no  considhul." 

"I  was  almost  convinced  that  Mr.  Arndul  had  made 
some  false  statements  to  me,  from  the  fact  that — " 

A. — "Almost  convinced!  John,  don't  sa\-  any  more 
concerning  that  kind  of  credulity.  It's  incredible  itself 
as  Arndul's  statements." 

I  proposed  in  this  to  give  as  near  as  I  could  remem- 
ber, what  occurred  in  that  canvass.  I  take  your  view 
now,  but  then,  I  won't  say  I  was  more  charital)lc,  but 
far  less  suspicious;  and  thus  L  was  subjected  to  all 
kinds  of  imposition. 

But  to  resume:  I  told  the  boy  there  was  some  mis- 
take, and  asked  him  why  he  came  to  me  with  the 
counterfeit  bill?  to  which  he  replied: 

"Pap  said  he  got  it  frum  you  at  the  trial,  an'  he 
wants  good  spondulixis  fer  it." 

"I  told  the  boy  I  would  see  his  father,  but  couliln't 
promise  to  make  good  the  bad  bill."  He  moved  off 
reluctantly,  muttermg: 

"Jis  the  way  them  big  folks  git  rich,  give  poor  folks 
bad  sponds  an'  keep  good  ones." 

I  thought  of  Pat's  hint,  "a  pussy  in  the  male  toob," 
concerning  this  sick  man,  and  went  on  to  dinner.  Ar- 
riving at  my  home,  I  was  met  at  my  gate  by  a  man, 
who  said  he  had  just  called  to   see  me.     He  wore  the 


196  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT, 

haggard,  haunted  look,  full  of  that  indescribable  appre- 
hension that  cha]"acterizes  a  case  of  delirium  tremens. 
I  supposed  he  was  some  victim  of  intemperance,  who 
had  called  for  professional  advice.  His  manner  was 
mysteriously  confidential,  his  voice  a  sepulchral  stage 
whisper.  I  met  him  with  my  usual,  "What  can  I  do 
for  you?"  He  plucked  me  aside,  though  there  was  not 
a  soul  in  sight,  and — just  here,  you  can  stick  a  long 
parenthetical  space,  and  wait,  for  the  interview,  till  I 
have  filled  the  space.  I  had  been  accommodated  so 
often  durhig  this  brief  canvass,  and  I  presume  other 
candidates  have  been  pleased  occasionally  by  this  same 
confidential  class,  that  I  have  wished  to  capture  one 
of  the  rarest  specimens,  in  order  to  describe  them  all. 
They  all  practice  the  same  profession,  but  like  the  doc- 
tors, in  different  ways,  for  the  benefit  of  novelty.  The 
science  is  not  inaptly  termed  buttonholing.  There  is 
but  one  serious  objection  to  this  name,  and  that  is,  no 
set  of  buttonholes  a  candidate  could  have  built  in  a 
coat,  even  if  it  were  a  coat  of  mail,  could  stand  the 
wear  and  tear.  Again,  it  may  be  said  that  the  button- 
hole holt  is  not  the  very  best  holt,  though  so  consid- 
ered by  many  practitioners.  flic  age  and  strength  of 
the  coat  involve  too  many  uncertainties,  whereby  the 
game  may  escape.  Other  methods,  equally  successful, 
have  been  in  vogue  for  a  long  time,  to-wit:  the  single 
antl  double  shoulder  grip:  and  also  the  digital  abduc- 
tive  grip.  I'he  single  shoulder  grip  is  performed  by 
an  expert  willi  a  vigorous  slaj)  on  the  shoidder,  that  is 
intended  to,  and  does,  startle  and  disconcert  the  victim 
like  the  swoop  ol"  a  bird  of  prey,  while  the  claws  arc 
gradually  tightened,  and  you  are  dragged  aside  and 
leisurely  devoured.      The  double  shoulder  grip  is  2)rac- 


"or  what  you    will."  igj 


ticed  generally  by  real  or  very  presuming  friends.  The 
self-assenting,  self-confident  friend,  or  presuming  ac- 
quaintance, comes  boldly  to  the  front,  seizes  you  on 
either  shoulder,  presses  you  to  the  wall,  and  if  he's  got 
bad  teeth,  eats  onions  or  Limburger,  smokes  or  chews, 
drinks  lager  or  whisky  (but  it's  rare  you  find  such 
vicious  habits  among  politicians),  then  this  method  is 
intensely  interesting;  you  enjoy  it  with  a  zest  that's 
soul-inspiring — especially  if  the  friend  is  one  you  don't 
like  much  any  way.  This  is  the  favorite  method  of 
the  maudlin,  slavering,  intoxicated  friend;  then  you 
take  more  interest  in  what  he  says,  and  enjoy  hugely 
the  /e/c  a'tctc^  which  is  as  close  as  two  billing  doves. 

The  digital  grip  method  is  practiced  by  the  ostenta- 
tiously busy,  passing  friend,  who,  in  his  hurry,  seizes 
your  hand,  and  with  a  hearty  shake,  and  "how  are 
you?"  jerks  you  out  of  an  interesting  group,  retain- 
ing one  of  your  fingers,  by  which  he  leads  you  olF 
some  paces,  feasts  on  your  time  and  patience  ad  libi- 
tum; still  holding  the  finger  till  the  last  word;  when 
he  reluctantly  yields  to  your  continued  efforts  to  re- 
lease the  finger,  and  goes  away.  There  is  one  secret 
about  this  method;  that  is,  as  soon  as  you  succeed  in 
recapturing  your  finger,  this  kind  of  practitioner  con- 
siders the  case  gone,  the  confidential   interview  closed. 

There  are  many  other  methods  besides  these  more 
popular  ones,  but  they  must  be  left  und escribed.  If 
that  hypothetical  reader  should  wish  to  learn  and  prac- 
tice them,  he  should  go  to  the  best  school,  that  is,  run 
for  office.  Should  he  succeed  in  securiuiif  :in  office  in- 
volving  the  distribution  of  any  loaves  and  fishes,  then 
he  can  acquire  absolute  perfection  during  his  official 
term. 


198  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

A. — "What  about  the  man  at  the  gate?" 
"I'm  coming  down  to  him.  As  I  said,  he's  one  of 
the  rare  specimens.  He  belongs  to  the  secret  signal 
corps  of  the  mysterious,  incomprehensible  brigade.  I 
left  his  method  out  of  the  description,  because  it  is 
rather  irregular;  it's  unaccountable;  that  is,  you  can't 
imagine,  when  a  man  seeks  such  confidential  talk, 
when  there  is  not  a  soul  within  a  mile,  why  it  is 
he  still  plucks  you  aside,  with  an  apprehensive  look 
this  way  and  that,  before  he  opens  his  battery.  The 
mysterious  air  of  his  variety  renders  you  vaguely  un- 
comfortable till  he  whispers  his  tale;  very  often  more 
uneasy  afterwards;  because  you  don't  know  what  he 
means  after  he's  said  his  'say'.  He  is  great  on  am- 
biguities, double-entendres,  innuendos,  insinuations, 
hints,  far-fetched  inferences,  strained  and  forced  con- 
structions; in  short,  he  deals  exclusively  in  all  the  va- 
rious shades  and  styles  of  incomprehsible  expressions. 
His  method  is  as  irregular  as  his  practice;  ordinarily, 
though,  he  performs  in  the  following  manner:  Victim 
on  the  street,  usually  (for  the  mysterious  aside  plucker 
knows  that  walls  have  ears)  engaged  in  interesting 
conversation  with  several  friends;  about  to  make  a 
laughable  or  culminating  point,  when  your  viz  a  viz, 
who  has  seen  the  secret  signal,  suddenly  checks  you, 
and  says,  pointing  over  your  shoulder,  "there's  a  gen- 
tleman that  wishes  to  speak  to  yon."  \ On  don't  like 
the  interruption,  but  lliiiiking  the  importance  ol"  the 
communication  will  justify  it,  \ou  go  straightway,  with 
a  vivid  impression  of  self-importance,  lie  is  six  rods 
a\va\,  lull  In-  removes  you  stealthil\  furlhc-i-  away  to 
llu-  ])arti:il  coxering  of  a    lamp-post,  shadr  Ii\t,  or   re- 


"uK    WHAT    von     WILL."  ICJt) 

cess  of  an  entr)-.  Here,  after  lookiiij^  anxiously  to  all 
points  of  the  comj^ass,  soundin*^  his  footing,  and  tak- 
ing a  concluding  glance  heavenward,  he  hisses,  in  a 
husky,  blood-curdling  whisper — "Have  you  seen  the 
old  sockdolager  on  his  high  guUenflip  yet?" 
"The  what?" 

"Yes,  well  it's  all  right!  Of  course,  you  must  be 
non-commital." 

"I  don't  understand  you." 

"Guess  not.  We'll  drop  that  if  it's  disagreeable," 
he  continues.  "I  w^anted  to  ask  you  if  old  highfalutin 
has  come  to  terms,  or  docs  he  mean  to  play  the  lilack 
Crook  on  you?" 

"You  must  be  more  explicit;  I  don't  comprehend 
your  meaning." 

"Oh,  well!  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  me,"  huffily; 
then  concluding,  "Though  I  guess  it's  best  not  to  say 
too  much.  Think  it's  going  to  rain?  Will  fish  bite 
to-morrow?" 

"Oh,  blame  your  fish,  what  do  wish  to  tell  me?"  you 
ask  imj^atiently. 

"Ah,  I  see  you  are  up  to  snuff;  it'll  all  be  right.  I'll 
see  you  again" — and  this  specimen  of  the  mysterious 
and  unaccountable, confidential  interviewer,  leaves  yf)u 
well  repaid  for  the  interruption. 

A. — "Well,  does  that  fill  the  parenthetical  space?  If 
so,  go  on  and  tell  what  the  man  at  the  gate  said." 

"He  plucked  me  off  a  rod  to  the  trunk  of  a  sIkkIc- 
tree,  when  he  began  the  following  lucid  and  highly 
satisfactory  colloquy,  by  remarking: 


200  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"I  don't  want  to  mention  any  names,  though  I  might 
as  were  tryin'  to  git  you  into  a  peck  o'  trouble." 

"Who?     What  kind  of  trouble?" 

"I  found  out  one  o'  them  gents  that's  lookin'  out  for 
number  one,"  he  continued,  "has  sent,  or  been,  or  writ 
to  a  certain  party,  that  told  old  Flimmijig  he  knowed 
a  man  that  stood  mighty  high  that  wasn't  as  good  as 
he  mought  be." 

I  was  impatient,  hungr}^;  told  him  I  was  in  a  hurry, 
must  go  to  my  dinner,  and  if  he  wished  to  say  any- 
thing to  do  so. 

"That's  just  the  way  with  some  folks,"  he  resumed 
in  a  disappointed  tone;  "when  a  man  wants  to  tell  them 
something  for  their  own  good,  they  don't  think  it's 
worth  listenin'  to  " 

"You  are  mistaken,"  I  replied,  "I'm  ready  to  listen 
to  anything  you  have  to  say;  but  speak  out  plainly, 
and  let  me  hear  what  it  is." 

My  manner  was  too  discouraging  to  him;  he  mum- 
bled a  few  more  incoherent,  meaningless  words,  by 
way  of  excuse  to  get  away — and  away  he  went.  I 
went  in  to  dinner,  desperately  hungry,  with  the  das- 
tardly intent,  if  my  wife  was  still  on  the  aggressive,  to 
overwhelm  her  with  the  notes  and  duns,  and  threats 
and  suits,  and  further  charges,  pecuniary  and  criminal, 
from  Judas  Iscariot  Sleek. 

My  war-like  designs  were  frustrated,  when  I  found 
her  in  bed,  sick;  yes,  sick  with  (lie  continued  annoy- 
ances of  this  campaign.  I  was  not  astonished ;  almost 
felt  sick  nivself  1  tried  to  cheer  her;  told  her  the 
duel    was    all    arranged;  no    lighting;  all   was   serene. 


'oh    what    you    WII.I,."  201 


I  learned  the  widow  Gay's  first  husband's  sister-in-law 
and  Mrs.  Sharpnose  had  been  telHng  my  wife  of  the 
shuider  suit;  that  it  would  cost  me  thousands  of  dollars 
if  1  didn't  repair  hastily  to  Mr.  Sleek,  and  compromise, 
by  paying  five  hundred  dollars.  I  then  told  my  wife 
it  was  all  bosh;  nothing  in  it,  and  went  to  the  dining- 
room  to  a  cheerless  and  meager  repast.  I  thought  of 
the  thorny  paths  of  ambition  while  I  munched  cold 
bread  and  drank  buttermilk;  entertained  a  gosling  idea 
of  the  fruition  of  my  hopes,  when  I  desserted  on  the 
last  quarter  section  of  a  canned  ffoose-h^xxy  pie.  After 
this  sumptuous  repast,  I  gave  my  wife  some  valerian 
and  advice,  and — 

"Go  lang  wid  yez.  It's  mesilf  as  anly  wishes  thit 
yez  was  only  me  soize  or  bigger,  an'  I'd  fale  o'  thit 
cockanit  hid  a  spell,  yer  blatherin'  thafe  o'  ould  Nach." 

Methought  I  knew  the  dulcet  tones  of  that  harp  o' 
"Tearer's  hauls,"  and  throwing  myself  into  a  listening 
attitude,  heard  this  plaintive  response: 

"You  jis  let  me  alone,  confound  yer — Eres  Y'extra 
Pudcum  number  4,  all  bout  John  Smith  passin  count- 
fit  money  an — "  here  the  cry  was  interrupted  by  a 
lively  chase  down  the  sidewalk. 

Going  out,  for  I  was  ready  to  go  down  town,  I  saw 
Mr.  Flannagan  returning  from  the  chase,  brandishing 
his  shillalah  with  one  hand,  while  he  triumphantly 
held  aloft  a  batch  of  Extras,  No.  4,  with  the  other; 
shaking  his  head  dcfiantlv  and  remarking  "to  whom 
it  might  concern:" 

"An'    it   taks    Misther    Flinnigin,    o'    Tipperary,    to 
dale  wid  sich  an'  taich  'em  bitter  manners  an'  to  coom 
—26 


202  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

al  aroun'  a  mon's  privat  dwilling,  bellowln'  out  bloody 
lies  an'  shlander" — and  Pat  tore  the  Extras  to  pieces 
before  I  could  remonstrate,  and  throwing  down  the 
fragments,  exclaimed — 

"There!  An'  may  the  divil  tak  sich!" 

Latest  from  the  retreating,  though  apparently  un- 
conquered  representative  of  the  press,  was  a  report  that 
came  to  our  ears  from  an  adjacent  street  corner,  as 
follows: 

"Never  mind,  you  contrived,  knock-kneed,  bandy- 
legfired,  rib-nosed  baboon  of  a  red-mouthed  Paddv. 
I'll  fix  you" — and  addressing  his  concluding  remarks 
to  me,  "An'  you  ole  humbug  of  an  honest  Johny,  I'll 
put  you  in  the  tenipentiary  for  shovin'  the  queer" — and 
if  the  little  heathen  didn't  repeat  that  same  insulting 
maneuvre  of  his  thumb  to  his  nose  and  twirling  his 
fingers  at  me,  before  he  disappeared  around  the  street 
corner. 

"Pat,"  I  said,  "you  have  done  wrong,  very  wrong. 
I'm  sorry." 

"Wrang,  yez  say?  An'  isn't  it  a  moighty  lang 
soight  wranger  to  pooblish  an'  scather  bloody  shlan- 
derin  lies  on  a  gud  mon?   I'd  bay  afther  knowin'?" 

"Yes,  that  is  also  wrong,  Mr.  Flannagan,  Init  our 
laws  and  customs  allow  it,  and  it  is  the  great  preroga- 
tive of  our  free  press  system." 

"An'  may  the  divil  fly  away  wid  sich  laws  an'  sich 
costums,  an'  all  yez  prayrogatooms  an'  fra  prissis  an' 
sastems  an'  all  sich  blatherin'  blarney  fur  all  thit  Path- 
erick  Flinnigin  cares;"  and  Patpausetl  a  moment  with 
this  as  a  "whereas,"  then  went  on  with  the  resolution. 


"or  what  you  will,"  303 

"Here's  the  huldie-book  as  will  joomp  intircly  ferniuts 
all  sich  blalherin'  bosh,  an'  invisti<^ate  all  sich  vvraugs 
wid  his  shillalah." 

Pity  a  majority  of  our  judicial  decisions  didn't  con- 
tain as  much  straightforward,  uncompromising  justice, 
followed  by  the  same  prompt  and  fearless  execution. 

I  asked  Pat  what  he  wished? 

"To  till  yez  consarnin  o'  that  thraiter  Farrin.  It's 
no  more  nor  a  momint  or  so  sin'  I  made  a  sthrikin  ob- 
sarvation  twill  one  o'  his  crawnies,"  replied  Pat,  with 
emphasis  on  "sthrikin." 

"You  didn't  have  another  fight?"  I  asked,  fearing 
the  repeated  introduction  of  Pat's  favorite  amusement 
into  the  canvass  was  likely  to  prove  disagreeably  mo- 
notonous. 

"Not  a  bit  o'  it,"  promptly  denied  Pat,  "only  he  sid 
Misther  Farrin  tould  'im  yer  haner  wasn't  the  clane 
thing — yez  had  shooved  a  splurious  counterfate  bell  an 
'im,  an'  all  in  the  wide  worruld  Mister  Flinnigin  tlun 
was  to  raply  in  me  virra  moildest  tarrums — only  wan 
ov  me  wakest  saloots — whin  he  jintly  tak  a  sate — an' 
biggcd  me  pairdon.  Thit  was  all,  shure — no  foightin' 
— laistways  on  the  pairt  o'  the  pairty  o'  the  sickond 
pairt." 

"Did  you  strike  him?     Who  was  it?" 

"Jist  the  jintlest  hint  in  the  wide  worruld  to  bay 
sated: — 'es  ther  silf-samc  as  thit  Arrurndal,  the  sack 
mon." 

During  this  conversation,  I  had  picked  ujo  enough 
pieces  of  Extra  No.  4  to  patch  up  and  decipher  the 
following : 


204  john  smith,  democrat. 

"Johnny  Persistently  Insists  on  Defeat! 
After  Disqualifying  Himself  by  Sending  a 
Challenge! — Shows  the  White  Feather! — 
A  Friend  Adjusts  it — Unwittingly(?)Shoves 
the  Queer! — Slanders  a  Poor,  Innocent 
Girl! — Encounters  the  Law  provided  for 
such! — Insults  a  Worthy  Lady  in  his  own 
Office! — Is  Called  to  Account  by  a  Justly 
Enraged  Husband!" 

A. — "John,  I  can't  copy  this  any  further,  as  it  is  bad- 
ly patched,  and  only  an  exaggerated  repetition  of  what 
has  preceded." 

"Well,  leave  it  to  the  imagination  of  my  hypotheti- 
cal reader;  though  he  must  have  a  very  vivid  and  in- 
ventive one  to  garble,  twist  and  distort,  for  any  pur- 
pose, such  trivial  occurrences  into  grave  crimes  and 
misdemeanors." 

A.— "Well  ?" 

I  was  on  the  point  of  starting  for  my  office,  when 
Mr.  Philander  Sharpnose,  the  "justly  enraged  hus- 
band," passed  hurriedly  by  without  speaking.  lie 
eyed  Pat's  "insthrumint"  apprehensively;  quickened 
his  pace,  looking  back  over  his  shoulder  every  few 
steps,  till  Mr.  Flannagan  and  1  started  in  the  same 
direction. 

Mr.  Flannagan,  with  the  eye  of  a  cotinoisscur^  took 

in  the  situation: 

"Thil's  ther  bugger,  an'  I  mistak  not,  is  ther  silf 
same  as  is  afliier  callin'  ov  yer  haner  twill  accoont  for 
insooltin'  ov  'is  nadle-nosed,  carroty-hidiil  bitter  half?" 
said  Pat,  interrogatively. 


"OR    WHAT    YOU     WILL.  205 

"Yes;  don't  speak  so  of  the  ladies.  The  man  has 
been  misled  by  his  wife." 

"Lit's  vvark  oop  a  bit  loivcly,"  continuetl  he;  "an' 
fale  o'  the  inimy's  sthrength,  as  they  tanum  it  in  ther 
airumy." 

Without  much  increase  of  speed,  Pat,  by  making 
shorter,  quicker,  emphatic  resounding  steps,  produced  an 
effect  on  the  progress  of  Mr.  Sharpnose  that  was  ludi- 
crous. Manifestly,  his  ear  was  set  for  such  music  in  the 
rear,  and  as  soon  as  the  sound  of  Pat's  accelerated  foot- 
falls fell  on  his  tympanum,  he  cast  a  fearful  glance  over 
his  shoulder,  and  walked  faster,  quicker,  double-quick 
around  the  first  corner  out  of  sight.  On  reachintr  the 
cross  street  we  got  a  glimpse  of  his  coat-tails  stream- 
ing straight  out  behind  as  he  flashed  around  the  cor- 
ner a  block  away. 

"lla!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  Pat,  pointing  his  "insthru- 
mint"  in  the  direction  of  the  vanishing  hero.  "An' 
did  yez  haner  iver  see  the  loike  in  yer  borun  days.? 
Called  twill  'accoont  by  the  jistly  enraged  hisband,' 
an'  it's  a  small  bill  yez'll  have  to  sittle  in  that  quarther, 
shure." 

Mr.  Sharpnose  had  doubtless  learned  that  Mr.  B'lan- 
nagan  was  my  fast  friend — also  Pat's  skill  and  readi- 
ness in  "phranoligical  iximinations,"  and  not  wishing  a 
chart  of  his  cranium,  gat  him  away. 

Pat  refused  to  go  to  the  office  with  me;  I  again  asked 
him  to  quit  fighting;  told  him  the  marshal  would  like- 
ly be  after  him  for  striking  Mr.  Arndul;  to  let  me 
know  if  arrested,  and  to  be  sure  and  not  light  any 
more. 

"An'  shure  it's  loike  dhrawin'  o'   me  eyetaith  twill 


2o6  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

pramise   so   mooch.     I'll  thry   inny  ways    for    a  wae 
spell.     An'  good  afthernoon  twill  yez," 

"Good  day  Mr.  Flaniiagan,"  I  said,  and  went  to  my 
office;  wrote  a  note  to  the  editor  of  the  Republican, 
stating,  that  I  would  hold  him  personally  responsible 
for  the  slanderous  folsehoods  he  had  published  con- 
cerning me,  and  was  going  to  post  it,  when  I  was  met 
in  the  hallway  by  Mr.  Honore. 

"How  goes  the  canvass  by  this  time,"  he  queried, 
and  then  scrutinizing  my  expression,  said,  "you  look, 
I  should  say,  on  inspection,  rather  mad." 

"Yes ;  I  a7n  niadP 

I  then  showed  him  the  note,  and  told  him  my  in- 
tent. He  laughed  at  me,  and  retaining  the  note, 
walked  into  the  office,  asking  me  to  follow.  Seated, 
he  told  me  this  kind  of  abuse  was  customary  all  over 
this  country,  was  considered  a  part  of  the  freedom  of 
the  press.  Suits  for  libel,  suits  for  slander,  personal 
rencontres,  and  duels — all,  had  been  tried  to  check  it, 
with  no  good  result.  The  American  press  was  abso- 
lute autocrat.  It's  only  cure  is  within  itself,  it  will 
either  see  the  danger  in  time  to  avert  it,  or  take  rope 
enough,  and  according  to  tlie  old  adage — hang  itself. 

A. — "Time's  up,  till  to-morrow  night." 


ELECTIONEERS    VIGOROUSLY.  207 


NIGHT  XUl. 

JOHN    ELECTIONEERS     VIGOROUSLY! 

I  had  not  finished  the  interview  with  Honore  when 
you  struck  off  hist  nij^lit. 

A. — "Any  where  will  do  to  begin  or  end  in  this 
complex  jumble.  Guess  your  hypothetical  reader  will 
know  about  as  well  as  you  did  what  was  coming  next, 
when  it  would  come,  and  how." 

Honore  asked  me  what  I  and  that  gunpowder  Irish- 
man had  been  doing  to  Mr.  Sharpnose? 

"Nothing,"  I  answered.  "He  has  threatened  ,to  call 
me  to  account." 

"Oh,  that  was  bosh  in  Extra  No.  4,  he  is  not  a  dan- 
gerous man.  He  came  to  me,  out  of  breath,  and  did  'a 
harrowing  tale  unfold' — that  you,  and  the  Flannagan 
o'  Tipperary,  pursued  him  with  bludgeons,  with  mur- 
derous intent,  several  blocks,  and  he  adroitly  escaped 
with  his  life,  I  intercede  for  him,  and  at  his  special 
request,  ask  you  not  to  send  that  bloodthirsty  Irish- 
man after  him." 

I  had  to  smile  at  Ilonore's  harrowing  tale.  I  then 
showed  him  Mr.  Sharpnose's  note,  when  he  laughed 
heartily  in  turn,  particularly  at  the  postscript — "My 
wife  makkes  me  write  this." 

,    "And  now,  honest  John,  on  whom   did   you  'shove 
that  queer'  bill?" 


2oS  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Mr.  Arndul,  the  sick  man." 

"What  base  ingratitude,  to  serve  a  martyr  to  your 
interests  such  a  scurvy  trick,"  he  repHed,  with  mock 
gravity. 

"I  did  give  him  a  five  dollar  bill  this  morning,  but  I 
presume  it  was  genuine." 

"It  don't  make  a  particle  of  difference  politically, 
John,"  he  answered, and  continuing,  said:  "I  move  the 
previous  question.  How  goes  the  canvass?  How 
many  of  the  boys  have  you  seen?  How  many  of  the 
influentials  have  you  botton-holed  ?" 

At  these  questions  I  was  astonished,  and  a  little  cha- 
grined; I  replied  by  asking  as  many  more: 

"Didn't  he  know  that  I  hadn't  had  five  minutes  rest 
day  or  night  since  the  'everlasting'  nomination,  from 
these  aggravations?  Didn't  he  think  they  were  annoy- 
ances? or  was  he  so  indurated  as  to  be  heedless  of 
them?"     To  which  he  replied  irrelevantly: 

"John,  you  have  lost  nearly  the  whole  day  on  tri- 
fles; you  must  go  out  now  and  electioneer."  He  bid 
me  good  day  and  went  out. 

A. "It  was  high  time  to  take  his  advice.     You  had 

wasted — yes  wasted  this  time  on  mere  trifles." 

"I  see  the  same  way  now,  I  didn't  then,  and  don't 
you  think  the  only  difference  between  now  and  then  is 
in  the  fact  that  those  petty,  mean  triilcs  of  that  lime 
are  the  full  grown  corruptions  of  the   present  day?" 

I  sat  and  tried  to  think  where  to  go,  whom  to  sec, 
and  what  til  do  or  say.  No  use;  1  seized  my  hat,  (I 
had  bought  a  soft  f)ne  this  time)  and  rushed  out,  deter- 
mined to  disregard  trifles,  and  go  some  where;  sec 
somebody;  say  or  do  something.  Soon  as  I  reached 
the  outer  door  that  ominous  "'Ere's  yer"  smote  on  my 


ELECTIONEERS  VI  GOKOUSLY.  209 

ear,  and  I  shrank  back  in  the  entry  to  catch  the  next 
two  words — "Extra  Democrat" — I  ran  out  and  seized 
one,  not  hearing  or  caring  what  the  boy  said  after- 
wards.    Here's  the  document  I  captured : 

"EXTRA    DEMOCRAT. 

JOHN    SMITH    VINDICATED! 

Mr.  Editor :  As  the  pubHshed  efforts  in  behalf  of 
John  Smith,  our  candidate  for  inayor,  have  been  mea- 
gre, while  there  have  been  many  to  injure  him,  I  take 
it  on  myself  to  vindicate,  not  the  cause  of  a  good  par- 
ty, but  the  interests  of  a  good  man.  The  party  can 
take  care  of  itself,  but  let  the  com m unit}'  take  care  of 
a  good  man,  of  whatever  party.  I  therefore  state, 
from  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  facts,  that  John 
Smith  is  entirely  innocent  of  all  slanderous  charges 
published  against  him,  and  further,  I  will  myself  stand 
personally,  legally  and  pecuniarily  responsible  foi  any 
or  all  of  the  same. 

Ernest  Honore." 

"Wasn't  that  magniloquent,  magnificent  and  mag- 
nanimous?" 

A. — "Has  the  ring  of  true  metal." 

I  had  read  it  twice;  it  had  passed  to  the  third  read- 
ing, when  I  was  served  with  a  peace  warrant.  I  felt 
peaceable  enough  now;  so  told  the  officer,  but  it 
seemed  that  one  Philander  Sharpnose  wanted  security 
as  to  my  pacific  inclinations  in  the  sum  of  $500.  I 
went  with  the  officer;  found  Honore,  who  went  on  my 
bond,  and  said  he  had  endorsed  for  that  wild  Irishman 
a  similar  paper,  and  continued  Honore,  reflectively: 

"I'll  bet  that  $500,000,000  wouldn't  keep  him  from 
fighting  for  ^wc  minutes,  if  he  had  or  could  make  a 
chance." 

-27 


2IO  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"You  are  running  some  risk,"  I  answered;  "for 
there  are  only  800  other  voters,  and  at  Pat's  velocity  he'd 
run  out  of  material  soon ;  however,  there's  one  saving 
clause." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Honore. 
"He'll  never  get  in  reach  of  Sharpnose." 
"Good-day — go  on — electioneer,"  and  he  was  gone. 
"Electioneer — yes,  I  must;  I'll  go  and  see — " 
"Mr.  Smith,  here's  a  hill  Mister  Mallory  told  me  to 
hand  you,"  snapped  in  an  urchin. 

I  examined  it,  and  found  it  was  for  a  balance  of 
$35.00  for  liquors,  cigars,  &c.,  used  by  my  friends  Sat- 
urday night.  Told  the  boy  I  didn't  owe  Mr.  M.  a 
cent;  wouldn't  pay  it.  It  was  blackmailing.  The  boy 
went  away,  offering  to  himself  a  bet  that  I  would  be 
beaten  from  a  certain  hot  locality — common  name  end- 
ing in — "'11  to  brcxfuS."  This  was  the  first  bet  I  had 
heard  offered  on  the  result  during  the  day.  It  was  of- 
fered by  the  boy  to  his  true  inwardness;  can't 
say  that  it  was  taken.  I  began  to  realize  I  should  be 
beaten  from  the  office  to  private  life,  if  I  didn't  do 
something;  so  I  resolved  to  go  to  our  printing  office 
and  see  about  the  tickets  first,  and  then — 
"Hello,  Dr.!  Dr.  Smith!  come  this  way." 
Turning  rightabout,  T  went  back  toward  my  office, 
near  which  the  hailing  man  was,  who  informed  me 
there  was  a  lady  in  my  office.  I  didn't  have  time  from 
electioneering  to  attend  to  professional  business,  but 
went  up,  as  it  was  a  lady,  and  found  Miss  Gay.  She 
had  brcn  crying,  and  blushed  and  staiTimcred  a  "good 
afternoon."  With  that  umnistakable  lady-like  demean- 
or that  passes  without  (jucstioii  under  any  circumstan- 
ces, she  related  lur  .innoyances  concerning  the  slander 


ELECTIONEERS    VIGOROUSLY.  211 

sLiil;  staling-,  in  conclusion,  what  was  quite  true,  to  my 
certain  knowledge,  that  she  knew  it  all  originated  with 
Mrs.  Sharpnose  and  the  sister-in-law  of  her  mother's 
first  hushand,  Mrs.  Maligny,  who  had  always  disliked 
her,  and  Mr.  Sleek.  I  told  her  that  1  would  see  the 
affair  set  right,  if  it  took  all  the  time  and  means  I  had, 
unceasingly  used  to  that  end. 

A. — "After  you  got  through  electioneering?" 

"Don't  talk  that  way.  1  was  mad  then,  and  I  am 
now,  to  think  there  were  and  are  yet  such  pests  in 
the  world  as  those  slanderous  harpies  that  were  hunt- 
ing down,  with  the  tireless  avidity  of  bloodhounds, 
that  poor,  defenceless,  innocent  creature." 

A. — "John,  you  are  violating  the  usages  of  polite 
literature  to  speak  of  the  ladies  in  this  way." 

"1  speak  of  a  certain  class,  using  the  mildest  terms 
found  in  their  epitomized  biographies.'' 

A. — "What  epitomized  biographies?" 

"Not  found  in  the  roseate  realms  of  romance,  but  in 
criminal  dockets,  police  reports  and  associated  press 
despatches  of  a  sensational  kind." 

A. — "You  beast.  You'd  better  go  on  with  your 
electioneering." 

"I  will.  Miss  Gay  left  reassured.  I  had  gone  as 
far  as  the  outer  door  with  my  former  purpose  of  seeing 
about  the  tickets,  when  this  note  arrived.  An  earnest 
solicitation  for  an  immediate  interview  with  Mr.  Flan- 
nagan :" 

"To  His  Honor,  Mr.  John  Smith: 

S/r — An'  it's  not  meself  as  would  be  after  askin  of 
yer  honor  to  come  to  meself  barren  meself  was  able  to 
come  to  yezself;  but  there's  at  the  prisint  writin  a  wea 
bit  of  an   absthruction,  lookin   for  all   the    world   like 


212  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

unto  a  calaboose,  as  pravints  Mr.  Flannagan  fiam  call- 
in'  an  yer  honor  in  proper  person.  An'  if  it  would 
not  be  too  much  thrauble  it's  the  same  Mr.  Flannagan 
as  would  loike  verra  much  a  wea  bit  of  an  interview 
wid  yez,  shure. 

I  very  time  yr  frind, 

"p.  Flannagan,  o'  Tipperary. 

A. — "Did  he  die  before  you  reached  him?" 

"No;  why  do  you  ask?  I  went  as  fast  as  I  could 
walk  to  that  'wea  bit  of  an  interview'." 

A. — "And  found  him  alive?" 

"Of  course  I  did.     Why  not?" 

A. — "Strangce,  he  must  have  been  in  at  least  fifteen 
minutes,  and  it's  not  at  all  likely  he  got,  in  there,  one 
single  fight,  much  less  two  or  thr — " 

"Oh,  bosh!  On  my  route  to  the  calaboose  I  was 
stopped  by  Mr.  Snigglefritz,  who  drew  a  voluminous 
batch  of  papers  from  his  pocket,  and  said,  as  he  select- 
ed a  fresh  looking  one  from  the  dingier  fellows:" 

"Meester  Smit,  I  vants  to  sbeak  mit  you  'pout  pisi- 
ness.     Yoner  frents — " 

"I'm  ni  a  great  hurry  just  now,  I'll  see  you  to-mor- 
row," I  answered  impatiently. 

"Oh,  das  is  shust  vat  I  am,  in  pig  hurry.  I  sees  long 
times  ago,  some  oder  candidates  pefore  elecshion,  and 
dey  vas  in  crcat  hurry  too,  and  wlien  I  comes  after 
elecshion,  den  dcy  not  bay  one  lani  cent" — 

And  by  this  time  he  had  the  bill  opened,  handing  it 
to  me.  I  saw  it  was  like  Mallory's,  only  bigger,  "$65 
fer  pier  getrunken  py  Ilerr  Smit's  frents,  Sontay 
den  5th."  I  (old  Mr.  Snigglefritz  I  had  authorized  no- 
body to  use  111)  credit  at  his  beer  garden,  and  I  would 


ELECTIONEERS    VIGOROUSLY.  213 

not  pay  one  cent  of  the  bill,  and  left  him  foaniin<^  with 
wrath,  and,  I  guess,  considerable  beer. 

Pat  was  happy  to  see  me.  Although  I  was  in  a 
hurry  to  electioneer,  he  compelled  me  to  listen  to  his 
"ixjDlination  ov  the  how's  o'  it." 

"Arristed  fath  to  kape  the  pace  wid  thit  bloody  rin- 
nin'  coward  Shairpnose — an'  yer  hould-sould  Misther 
Hanner  wint  me  bail,  an'  I  was  fra  as  the  air  o'  hivin', 
but  did  yez  iver  think,  so  soon  as  iver  that  blissed  gin- 
tlemon  had  gone  'is  way  and  disappaired  from  the 
soight  of  me  two  eyes,  wha  should  coom  boot  this 
same  tormintin'  Arurnald,  the  silf-same  pussy  in  the 
male  toob,  and  hid  me  arristed  agin  fer  nothin'  in  ther 
wide  woruld  barrin  the  glntle  saloot  mesilf  gave  'im 
for  savin'  thit  yer  haner  shoovcd  a  splurious  counter- 
fate  bell  an  'im." 

We  went  to  the  magistrate's  office,  where  I  settled 
the  fine  and  costs  for  Pat.  Again  I  advised  him  to 
quit  fighting. 

"An'  it  shill  niver  cost  yer  haner  a  clnt.  It's  mesilf 
as  kapes  a  mite  o'  the  nadeful  by  me  twill  home,  an' 
yez  shall  have  ivery  cint  yez  jist  paid,  so  soon  as  Mis- 
ther Flinnigin  can  wark  twill  it  an'  back." 

"It  is  not  the  money  I  care  about,  Pat;  you  are  wel- 
come to  that,  but  I  want  you  to  take  my  advice  and 
quit  fighting." 

"An'  shure  it's  not  the  felthy  locre  as  Mr.  Flinnigin 
is  carin'  aboot,  but  the  fun;  boot  it's  mesilf  as  cares  fer 
the  advoice  o'  you.  I'll  thry  an  ipiit  a  wea  spell."  So 
saying,  Pat  was  gone. 

A. — "To  look  up  the  quickest  row." 

Stepping  to  the  door  with  the  intention  of  going 
out  to  electioneer,  I  was  staggered  at  the  sight  and 
hideous  yell  of  the  opposing  printer's  demon — 


214  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"Eres  yer  Ex-r  Piulkin;  all  bout  J.  Smith  swindlin 
orphans!" 

"This  was  the  same  boy  whom  Pat  had  despoiled: 
who,  seeing  me  as  he  passed  the  door,  and  had  got  a 
few  paces  beyond,  turned  and  went  through  that  same 
grossly  insulting  manouvre  of"  the  thumb  and  fingers, 
before  described — and  not  satisfied  with  this,  yelled 
back  at  me" — 

"Heh,  ole  counterfeit,  you'd  better  try  to  mob  this 
press,"  then  went  his  way. 

I  picked  up  one  of  a  dozen  of  the  Extras  No.  4 — I 
could  not  then  imagine  where  such  a  lie  was  started. 
Here's  the  paper — 

"John!  How  about  Those  Orphans? 

Honest   yohnny^  adyninisti'ator  of  Hezckiah    yohn- 

soii^  (dec'd.)     A  dead  man —  Widoxc  and  chil- 

di'en  starvi7ig. — Aloncy  spent  by 

y .   S.  for  office. 

"From  reliable  authority,  we  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  Mr.  Smith's  record  for  honesty  is  not  as 
good  as  many  short-sighted  persons  think.  He  has 
kept  a  widow  and  orphans  out  of  their  own  mone\', 
which  the\'  needed  to  purchase  bread.  This  is  from 
the  records. — Ed." 

This  was  a  "stunner."  I  was  administrator  of  this 
estate,  but  it  was  notoriously  insolvent.  I  had  advanc- 
ed money  without  anv  prospect  of  remuneration,  to 
relieve  the  widow  and  her  children.  The  editor  stated 
that  this  terrible  slander  was  from  the  records.  Not- 
withstanding the  advice  of  Mr.  Honore,  and  my  hurry 
l(»  electioneer,  I   walked  straiglit  to  the  printing  ollice. 


'  ELECTIONEERS    VIGOROUSI>Y.  215 

and  demanded  of  the  editor  his  authority  for  the  publi- 
cation. He  tried  to  evade,  but  seeing  I  meant  business, 
told  me  the  county  clerk  told  him  the  books  were  not 
square  in  the  matter.  This  clerk  I  had  always  regard- 
ed, and  then  knew  to  be  a  wishy-washy,  dough-faced 
traitor  in  politics,  who  had  slipped  into  his  j^lace  on  a 
compromise  issue  of  local  interest.  I  have  since  found 
this  a  common  practice  among  such  villainous  scamps, 
to  nose  out  of  the  records  some  explainable  irregulari- 
ty, that  means  no  harm  or  dishonesty  to  any  one,  and 
•report  it  just  in  time  to  work  all  the  injury,  but  net  in 
time  to  investigate  it,  before  election;  when,  along 
time  after  the  victim  is  defeated,  and  the  slander  has 
grawn  too  heavy  to  bear,  an  examination  is  had,  and 
lo!  there  is  nothing  in  it. 

I  must  go  on  and  tell  you  about  my  electioneering. 
I  started  from  the  Rep.  office  to  that  of  the  county 
clerk,  and  was  interrupted  by   Mr.  Farrin,  who  said — 

"Jones  has  got  the  bulge  on  you ;  he  has  left  $5  at 
every  saloon  in  town,  and  you  must  see  that  and  go 
one  better." 

"Go  one  what?"  I  did  not,  then,  comprehend  his 
language. 

"You  can  play  the  innocent  lamb  firstrate,"  he  re- 
joined, with  an  incredulous  smile;  then  resuming: 

"You  can't  fool  old  birds  with  chaff,  Johnny.  You 
must  straddle  the  blind  or  throw  up  your  hand." 

"I  told  him  there  was  ambiguity  in  his  language,  to 
speak  in  plain  terms." 

"Running  for  office  and  don't  know  how  to  play 
poker,"  he  exclaimed, 

"I  told  him  I  had  heard  of  a  game  at  cards  called 
poker,  also  an   immodest   dance    of  the    same    name, 


2l6  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

though  spelled  clifTerently;  still,  I  couldn't  see  that  a 
knowledge  of  either  was  a  qualification  for  office.  I 
have  learned  some  better  since,  {vide  politicians,  qui 
ubique  sunt^  especially  that  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  game  of  poker  is  essential  to  discharge,  with  eclat^ 
the  duties  of  our  ministers  abroad,  who,  thus  accred- 
ited, can  successfully  maintain,  against  the  tricky  diplo- 
macy of  the  world,  the  bowie-knife  and  revolver  pres- 
tige of  our  spread-eagle  prowess." 

A._"Well,  tell  what  else  Mr.  F.  said." 

"Yes,  yes;  I  must  hurry  on  to  that  electioneering." 
Mr.  Farrin  said: 

"To  be  plain,  Mr.  Smith,  you  must  put  up — shell 
out  to  treat  the  boys  liberally, 'tnd  secure,  against  Jones, 
the  influence  of  37  saloons." 

Having  no  confidence  in  this  man,  and  knowing 
him  to  be  a  traitor,  I  told  him  I  would  not  give  one 
cent:  which  was  what  I  would  have  told  anv  other 
person. 

"Then  up  vou  go,  Johnny!"  he  replied,  I  thought 
exultingly,  (for  I  rather  believed  then,  and  learned 
afterwards,  he  wished  himself  to  run)  and  after  a  pause 
concluded,  "I  thought  the  party  made  a  mistake  in 
nominating  you." 

"If  the  party  is  composed  of  such  material  as  you, 
it  did,"    I  replied  angrily. 

"Do  you  mean  to  insult  me,"  he  asked. 

"You  can  construe  my  remarks  as  you  please.  You 
have-  baipt'd  more  on  llu-  ahnightv  dollar,  and  done 
less  in  an  honest  way,  and  more  with  money  in  a  dis- 
honest way,  to  defeat  me,  than  any  man  in  the  opposite 
party  would  think  of  doing;  yet  you  profess  to  be  my 
friend." 


ELECTIONEERS    VIGOROUSLY.  217 

I  tell  you  I  was  "fighting  mad,"  although  in  a  great 
hurry  to  electioneer.  By  this  time,  as  Mr.  Farrin  had 
purposely  raised  his  voice,  there  was  quite  a  circle  of 
listeners. 

"You  are  a  liar!"  was  his  reply,  as  he  assumed  a 
defensive  attitude. 

Without  thought  I  struck  at  him — he  mysteriously 
dodged  the  blow  by  springing,  as  it  appeared  to  me, 
entirely  over  the  heads  and  shoulders  of  the  bystand- 
ers; landing  outside  of  the  circle  on  the  solid  pave- 
ment with  the  emphatic  squashing  thud  of  a  rotten 
pumpkin.  In  the  place  so  recently  occupied  by  Mr. 
Farrin,  stood  Mr.  Flannagan  o'  Tipperary,  who  bran- 
dishing his  "insthrumint,"  and  looking  around  eagerly 
for  more  "waruk,"  thus  spake: 

"An'  faith  ef  yez  wants  inny  more  jabs  o'  shoovelin' 
manoor  it's  mesilf  as  will  tak  all  sich  conthracts,  an' 
jist  do  'em  ip  quite  beautiful  intirely." 

Before  I  could  recover  from  my  surprise  at  the  rapid 
disappearance  of  Mr.  Farrin,  Pat  handed  me  the  ex- 
act amount  I  had  paid  for  him  in  the  Arndul  suit.  I 
told  him  to  keep  it;  no,  he  would  have  been  insulted. 

"Faith  an'  I  waruk  fur  me  pairty  an'  frinds,  not 
money,"  he  said,  and  truthfully. 

Mr.  Farrin  had  been  assisted  to  his  feet,  and  helped 
to  a  neighboring  seat,  where  he  sat  as  Mr.  Flannagan 
expressed  it,  "All  dibbled  oop  as  tho'  'e  hid  thcr  crimp 
calic,  an'  fur  all  the  woruld  as  tho'  'e  niver  did  a  mane 
thang  in  all  'is  borun  days." 

I  remarked  to  Pat  that  I  feared  he  had  injured  Mr. 
Farrin  internally. 

"Interrernilly,  yez  say?"  replied  Pat.     "An'  fath  an' 

if  the  wea  thrip  'e  took  through  ther  hitmosfare  wad 
—28 


2l8  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

'ave  knacked  all  'is  inteirernals  claue,  altogither,  in- 
toirely  out'n  'is  bastely  shill,  an'  thin  mayhap  ould 
Nich  an  'e  thort  it  woruth  'is  trouble  to  fill  'im  oop 
agin,  thin  praps,  ixidintly,  by  mistak  'e  moight  'ave 
got  the  laist  wea  bit  o'  good  in  'is  pisky  sarpint  hide, 
an'  thin  yez  say,  'e  wad  by  a  bitter  mon  share,  altho' 
'e's  chack  full  o'  the  divil's  oun  matherial." 

It  again  occurred  to  me  that  I  must  go  ahead  with 
my  electioneering.  I  told  Mr.  Flannagan  he  was  un- 
der heavy  bonds  not  to  fight. 

"An'  thit's  only  a  conthract  wid  thit  coward  Shairp- 
nase,"  he  said. 

I  was  going  to  speak  further,  but  here  a  paper  was 
handed  me;  it  stated  that  John  Smith,  Esqr.,  was  in- 
debted to  the  Empire  Saloon  to  the  amount  of  $15, 
for  sundries  furnished  friends.  I  denied  the  debt,  and 
sent  the  collector  off  in  a  huff. 

I  determined  to  electioneer,  and  starting  to  see  the 
county  clerk — Pat  touched  me  on  the  arm  and  said: 
"Wait  a  wea  bit." 

I  looked  in  the  same  direction  that  Pat  was^gazing, 
and  saw  a  noted  pugilist  and  athlete  coming  towards 
us;  when  Pat  half  whispered: 

"An'  now,  by  the  howly  jimpin'  Moses,  yez'll  sae 
fun — PU  tak  the  worud.  Then  turning  squarely  on  the 
intruder,  Pat  said:  "Whativer  is  it  yez  want?  Are 
yez  frind  or  foe?" 

"As  a  friend,  Pat,"  answered  the  bully.  "I  just 
wanted  you  to  tell  me  how  it  Was  done?  What  kind 
of  a  holt  you  took  on  l-'arrin  to  throw  him  clean  over 
the  heads  of  two  or  three  folks — I  never  sec  the  like 
before." 


ELECTIONEERS    VIGOROUSLY. 


219 


"An'  did  yez  niver  stiddy  the  coorvc  in  a  bockin' 
mule's  back  ?"  queried  Pat. 

"The  curve  ni  a  buckin'  mule's  back?"  echoed  the 
pugilist. 

"Fath  an'  it's  Misther  Flinuigin  as  hasdavoted  some 
toime  an'  tilint  twill  ther  silf  same  in  the  arrumy,"  re- 
sumed Pat.  "An'  vvfiin  it  was  not  a  sowl  ixcipt  Pat 
Flinnigin  as  was  on  the  outside  o'  the  coorve  as  an- 
ginares  will  till  yez — whin  ther  prissure  cooms  a 
moighty  soight  toe  harud  fer  yez,  an'  a  spoike  gives, 
an'  yez  go  flyin'  thro'  the  hitmosfarc,  the  divil  'imsilf 
doan't  know  where  yer  goin',  or  whin  or  how  ye'll 
sthop." 

"But  where  did  you  catch  him,  and  how  did  you 
work,  to  throw  'im  so  far?"  persisted  the  profes. 
sional. 

I  saw  this  amateur  was  earnestly  seeking  informa- 
tion as  to  how,  what  he  considered,  an  admirable  feat 
was  performed.  Pat  explained  further;  and  although 
I  wished  so  much  to  proceed  with  my  electioneering 
tour,  I  still  devoted  a  few  more  minutes  to  hear  Mr. 
Flannagan. 

"Will,  as  I  towld  yez,  it  was  fur  all  the  woruld  loike 
the  coorve  in  a  bockin'  mule's  back,  ixcipt  it  ain't  ix- 
ictly.  Yez  say,  Misther  Flinnigin  passisses  a  back- 
bone, an'  there's  niver  a  bitter  one,  baith  fur  'is  pairty 
an'  'is  frinds,  an'  bavin'  sich,  whativer  is  ther  raison  it 
can't  ba  o'  sarvice  whin  the  toime  cooms?  An'  as  I 
was  sayin',  it  was  loike  the  bockin'  mule's,  ixcipt  it  acts 
in  a  conthrairy  diriction." 


220  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

I  saw  there   was  philosophy  in   Pat's  explanation, 
and  waited  to  hear  him  out. 

"How's  that?"  asked  the  professor. 

"Will,  you  say,  yez  mount   the  bockin   mule's  back 

as  sthraight  as  a  shangle,  a  thinkin'  all  the  whoile  he's 

yez  bist  frind,  wid  patten  an'  fadin'  an'  cooryin'  an'  all, 

whin   all  o'  a  soodint   there's   a  coorve  in   'is  back,  an' 

bain'  on  the  outside  o'  the  same,  it's  altogither  misfor- 

tunate,  as  angineers  will  till  yez,  whin  a  spoike's  gone, 

an'  yez  is  flyin'  to   kingdom   come,  jist  so   far   as  yez 

know  aboot,  as   to  jist  where,  an'  whin,  an'  how   yez 

silf   is   iver  agoin'  to   sthrike  this   mortal   airth    agin, 

shure!     An'  yez  say,  if  yez  mount  Misther  Flinnigin, 

wid  a  sthraight  back,  thin  he's  all   hoonkey;  but  thin 

yez    jist  thry   'im   wid   what   yez    ud    misthak    fur    a 

coorve  in  *'is  back,  an' yez'U  divilish  soodin   discouver 

yez  an  the   outside   o'  the  same   coorve.     There's   the 

coorve  o'  paverty,  an'  some  big  folkes  loik  thit  hoom- 

bog  as  yez  say  I  hurt  interrernally,  oop  stairts  as  has 

made  a  little  d'  the  nadeful,  as  will  mount  this  silfsame 

coorve  o'  paverty,  thinkin'  all  the  toime  a  poor  mon  is 

a  baste  o'  the  dissirt,  will  an  accammadatin'  hoomp  an 

'is    back;  but   this  same   paverty-sthricken  baste  o'  a 

mon  sometoimes  has  a  virra  bad  hibit  o'  sthraightenin' 

o'  'is  back,  an'  out  goes  yer  hoomp,  an'  away  goes  yer 

rider.     An'  so  yez    say,  it's   ixictly  loike   the   bockin' 

mule's  back,  wid  a  wca  dallcrincc — thit  is,  it   ain't  at 

all,  at  all.     The  one  baiste  waruks  fram  a  hoomp  to  a 

sthraight,  an' the  itbcr   fram   a   slliraight   to  a  hoomp; 

yez  say?     Ther  same  as  gittin'  yez  back  oop  aboot  in- 

ny  thing.'" 

The  professor  had  comprehended    what    I    was   at  a 
loss  to  know,  and  he  explained  in  a  (|uesli()n. 


ELECTIONEERS    VIGOROUSLY.  221 

"You  done  it  by  takin'  him  under  the  arms,  and  ben- 
din'  your  back,  then  straightenin'  with  all  your  might?" 

"Yis,  yis,  an'  he  was  an  the  outside  o'  the  coorvc," 
concluded  Pat. 

A. — "And  I'm  glad;  finish  your  electioneering  to- 
morrow night." 


322  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 


NIGHT  XIV. 

JOHN    ADDS    VIM    TO  , VIGOROUS    ELECTIONEERING. 

It  was  now  four  o'clock  p.  m.,  the  last  day  of  the 
canvass.  I  went  to  work  in  good  earnest  to  see  the 
boys  and  set  things  right.  I  was  told  there  was  not 
time  to  see  the  county  clerk  and  demand  an  explana- 
tion, that  I  couldn't  possibly  get  till  after  the  election:  and 
the  tickets,  some  friend  would  manage.  Several  must 
have  managed  them,  for  there  were  at  least  a  dozen  differ- 
ent straight  democratic  tickets  out  next  day.  Fceling 
thus  freed,  I  sallied  forth,  "conquering  and  to  conquer" — 
perhaps-  I  went  for  the  biggest  democrat  in  the  city, 
Uncle  Dick  Svviller.  He  kept  and  lived  in  a  small 
huckstering  store  near  my  office.  He  was  called  a 
wheel-horse,  and  was  iicarlv  big  enough  for  two.  He 
weighed  between  375  and  400  His.,  and  was  warranted 
solid  democracy,  through  and  through.  As  I  neared 
the  door  1  thought  Uncle  Dick  was  sawing  gourds  or 
splintery  wood,  but  on  entering,  T  found  him  dead 
dr — no,  asleep  (you  sec  a  man's  iirst  impressions  in  the 
heat  of  the  campaign  will  not  do  act  on)  on  the  coun- 
ter, with  his  head  softlv  pillowed  in  a  bioad  crock  of 
of  stout  lard.  Whni  veneration,  at  the  uncertain  dis- 
tance of  a  mile  or  two,  his  dome-like  proportions 
would  have  aroused  in  the  bosom  of  a  pre-historic 
mound-builder!        F.anc\      m\     reverence,    as    a    dem- 


JOHN     ADDS    VIM    TO    ELECTIONEERING.  223 

ocratic  candidate,  at  so  close  a  view  of  such  a  co- 
lossal bonanza  of  the  true  metal.  Lucky  party 
to  have  such  a  heavy  man,  thought  I,  as  I  con- 
templated, with  partisan  pride  and  defiant  hope,  this 
reposing  democratic  Goliath.  But  one  thing  necessary 
to  sweep  away  all  opposition:  arouse  this  Sampson  and 
let  him  work  with  his  jaw  bone. 

"Uncle  Dick!     Oh,  Uncle  Dick  !"  I  called. 

No  response,  save  a  fortissimo  snore,  like  the  snort 
of  an  infuriated  rhinoceros.  I  was  in  a  hurry  to  go 
on  with  my  electioneering;  was  satisfied  it  was  ruin- 
ous to  leave  inert,  this  much  of  the  genuine  stuff,  so  1 
gave  it  a  desperate  shake. 

Hark!     It  moves!!     It  speaks!!! 

"Few  done  gwef  'um  here  I'll  knock  Hczouten- 
yer." 

I  went  sadly  away,  supposing  Uncle  Dick  had  fallen 
out  with  some  foreigner  in  the  other  partv,  Russian 
perhaps,  named  *Hezoutenyer,  and  he  was  dreaming,  in 
a  troubled  way,  of  the  difficulty. 

I  started  for  the  next  biggest  man  in  the  party,  and 
had  gone,  I  should  judge,  fifteen  paces,  when  I  was  met 
by  a  delegation  of  ladies  with  a  temperance  pledge, 
and  a  petition  to  the  next  mayor  and  council,  praying 
for  an  ordinance  against  the  retail  dram  shops. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Smith— Dr.  Smith — that's  a  dear  man," 
they  all  chorused,  "now  do  sign  both,  and  we'll  all 
electioneer  for  you!     Do!     Yes,  do!     Oh,  do!" 


*  Hezoutenyou  ;  this  was  not  the  name  of  a  foreigner,  as  was  then 
siipi)osed  in  the  lieat  and  liaste  of  the  canvass,  hut  a  runninfi;  together, 
by  ithe  i)roso(lial  figure  of  synaleiiha,  "f  four  Etiglisli  words,  to-wit  : 
H— ll,-()ut-of-yoii.  In  justice  to  I'nclc  Dick,  I  will  state  in  i)lain  terms 
that  the  synepy  was  due  to  dipsouumia,  and  not  to  any  personal  dilli- 
culty. 


224  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

"Of  course,  ladies,  I'm  a  strict  temperance  man.   TU 
sign — but  I've  got  no  ink." 

"Here!  Here's  mine — and  mine.  I've  got  some,"  and 
every  one  had  a  pocket  ink-stand  full. 

I  thought  after  I  had  signed  John  Smith,  with  a 
'flourish,  to  both  papers,  it  was  a  splendid  opportunity 
to  remove  from  their  minds  any  erroneous  impressions 
of  Saturday  night's  doings.  So  I  squared  myself  to 
the  task,  and  told  them  there  were  false  reports  con- 
cerning my  temperance  views;  that  I  always  was  an 
active  advocate  of  the  cause,  and  never,  directly  or 
indirectly,  patronized  those  abominable  saloons,  and 
never — 

"Mr.  Smith,  here's  a  bill  Mr.  Dodson,  that  keeps 
the  Spread  Eagle  Saloon  (this  was  the  lowest  den, 
where  a  recent  murder  occurred),  says  he  wants  set- 
tled before  election." 

Here  the  little  assassin  opened  the  bill,  and  ostenta- 
tiously read: 

"Mister  John  Smith,  D-r — that  means  debtor,  to 
l6o  D-k-s — that  means  drinks — $16,00.  To  100  Con- 
chas— that  means  cigars — makes  $10,00.  All  added 
up,  makes  $26,00,  and  he  says  you  an'  your  friends  got 
'em  Sunday,  an'  most  Sunday  night."  And  here  the 
unregenerate  little  wretch  looked  around  on  the  ladies 
for  a  smile  of  approval  at  his  scholastic  attainments. 
A. — "How  pleasant  is  electioneering  when  the  ladies 
button-hole  a  candidate!" 

"Yes,  but  if  that  boy  had  been  large  enough,  or  old 
enough  to  comprehend  the  heinousness  of  his  execra- 
ble conduct,  I  would  have  murdered — yes,  cruelly  mur- 
dered him  on  the  spot." 

Those  ladies  had  been  sent  bv  brothers  Bonham  antl 


JOHN    ADDS    VIM    TO    ELECTIONEERING.  225 

Coldman  to  accomplish  the  work  they  had  so  deli- 
cately undertaken,  and  wrathfully  abandoned  as  a 
hopeless  task:  that  is,  my  reformation.  The  ladies 
seemed  agreeably  surprised  at  the  facility  of  the  con- 
quest, when  I  so  readily  signified  my  willingness  to 
sign  both  pledge  and  petition,  and  when  I  had  affixed 
my  sign  manual,  aye!  when  I  indulged  in  unqualified 
denunciation  of  dram  shops,  and  capped  my  temper- 
ance climax  with  the  declaration  that  I  never  j^atron- 
ized  or  encouraged,  directly  or  indirectly,  those  abom- 
inable saloons — just  to  think,  when  I  was  rearing  such 
a  tower  of  strength,  and  those  dear  creatures  were  set- 
tling and  confidingly  Iniilding  high  hopes  around  it, 
that  that  deluge  of  "i6o  D-k-s — drinks"  should  come 
and  sweep  the  last  vestige.  You  can  hardly  imagine 
the  change  that  came  over  those  ladies  as  /  saw  it.  I 
couldn't  have  uttered  a  word  of  explanation;  but  they 
didn't  ask  it.  'Twas  too  damning.  They  hesitated ; 
apjDcared  confused;  whispered;  looked  at  my  signa- 
ture as  a  blot  on  the  papers;  looked  at  each  other, 
and — started  off,  when  one,  perhaps  with  a  forlorn 
hope  of  my  ultimate  reformation,  but  a  desjDairing 
glance  at  my  f;ice — still  marked  by  Saturday  and  Sun- 
day's mishaps — asked : 

"Mr.  Smith,  how  old  are  you?" 

'■'•One  hundred  and  sixty P''  1  replied. 

She  laughed  despite  her  anxiety,  and  joining  her 
comrades,  the  ladies  left  me. 

A. — "That  was  an  unfortunate  answer,  and  rather 
an  unpopular  age  for  a  man  among  the  ladies.  Why 
did  you  thus  answer.^" 

"You  ought  to  know  when  a  man  has  had  so  many 

spiteful    thrusts  at   his   moral  sensitiveness,    and   each 
—39 


226  JOHN  SMITH,   DEMOCRAT. 

wound,  with  constant  irritation,  has  thrown  out  its  un- 
availing excrescences  of  proud  flesh,  and  then  to  have 
such  an  actual  cautery  bungingly  thrust  into  this 
wounded,  over-sensitive  soul,  that  the  shock  paralyzes 
all  the  rest;  and  until  reaction,  there  is  absolutely  no- 
thing in  the  soul  or  consciousness  but  this  seared,  seeth- 
ing impression.  My  branding-iron  read,  as  the  boy 
said,  "i6o  D-k-s,  that  means  drinks."  That  brand  is 
there  to  this  very  day.  Now  you  know  why  I  was 
1 60  years  old.  I  felt  about  that  age,  although  I  was 
really  122  years  short." 

"Them's  crusadin'  gals.  You  oughter  see  the  old 
boss  make  'em  git  when  they  crusaded  his  shanty. 
They  scooted,  you  bet,"  patronizingly  remarked  my 
pleasant  friend,  the  boy,  who  affectionately  lingered 
with  the  demand  from  the  Spread  Eagle  Saloon. 

"Go  tell  your  father  I'll  have  him  arrested  for  swind- 
ling. 160  D-k-s,  and  he  knows  I  never  was  in  his 
wretched  saloon" — and  looking  sharply  at  the  boy,  I 
asked,  "Why  did  you  tell  such  a  lie  in  the  presence  of 
those  ladies,  that  I  and  m}^  friends  drank  160  drinks?" 
He  said  his  father  had  told  him,  and  he  wasn't  to  blame. 
So  1  didn't  kill  him,  but  let  him  bear  my  reply  to 
Dodson,  vSr. 

Where  was  I  going?  To  see  another  prcMuincnt 
democrat.  1  didn't  think  that  I  had  gained  much 
ground  in  electioneering  with  the  ladies,  but  thought 
this  pledge  and  prlitioii  nllair  was  a  time-honored  cus- 
tom, to  commit  the  candidates  before-hand.  I  tlidu't 
care  so  I  was  right;  I  had  honestly  and  willingly 
signed  both  papers.  I  have  learned  since  that  it  was 
a  dangerous  move,  and  it  began  to  aj^pear  so  then,  and 


JOHN    ADDS    VIM    TO    ELECTIONEEUIXG.  227 

is  a  settled  conviction  now,  that  to  do  anything  boldly 
and  openly  in  politics,  is  dangerous.  I  began  to  feel 
my  better  nature  cramped.  It  seemed  that  everything 
had  to  be  done  by  sneaking  trickery.  1  didn't  like 
this,  and  determined  to  fight  it  out  on  the  line  of  strict 
honesty  and  morality  if  1  didn't  get  a  solitary  vote. 

A. — "Good  for  you,  and  good  for — defeat." 

"I  didn't  care  whether  I  was  successful  or  not.  I 
had  determined  not  to  yield  one  jot  or  tittle  to  influen- 
ces that  even  bore  the  semblance  of  cornij^lion.  Would 
not  I  run  well  now,  though?" 

A. — "Not  much,  for  I  know  you  haxn't  kept  pace 
with  the  growth  of  the  petty  rascalities  you  detail,  and 
they  have,  by  this  time,  passed  beyond  your  recogni- 
tion; or  what  is  more  likely,  they  have  been  displaced 
in  popular  favor  by  the  many  new  and  admirable  va- 
rieties of  'ways  that  are  dark'  that  have  been  produ- 
ced by  a  complex  system  of  skillful  crossing  in  the 
hands  of  scientific  cultivators." 

"1  must  go  on  with  and  finish  my  electioneering.  I 
was  not  interrupted  more  than  half  a  dozen  times  on 
my  way  to  that  other  infiuential  party  man.  The  in- 
terview was  very  encouraging.  I  walked  into  his 
counting-room,  where  I  found  him  absorbed  in  his 
ledgers — most  of  them  are  taken  up  by  this  kind  of 
absorption — and  bid  him  good  afternoon. 

"Oh,  ah!  Smith?  Yes,  our  candidate  for  mayor?" 
formally  and  frigidly  ;  "take  a  seat,  sir." 

I  didn't  know  how  to  talk  with  such  a  man.  I  told 
him  that  I  would  be  under  many  obligations  for  his 
active  support. 

"Indeed,  I  havn't  time  to  electioneer,  but  you  can 
coimt  on  my  vote,"  he  replied — then   said,  "But  some 


228  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

of  our  best  workers,  Mr.  Farrin,  for  instance,  thinks 
that  you  will  not  likely  be  successful." 

"Why  does  he  think  so?" 

"He  tells  me — and  this  is  strictly  confidential,  Mr. 
Smith — that  he  fears  you  do  not  understand  the  ropes, 
you  know.  I  hope  you'll  not  disappoint  the  expecta- 
tions of  our  part}-,  though,"  he  continued,  "but  there 
is  a  clear  majority  against  you  on  the  last  election  of 
45  votes." 

I  told  him  rapidly,  for  I  wanted  to  get  away,  that 
Mr.  Farrin  was  a  traitor  to  me  and  his  party — that  he 
was  sacrificing  the  interests  of  the  party  for  the  grati- 
fication of  his  revenge  on  me,  for  securing  the  nomi- 
tion. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Smith,  it  will  never  do  to  tell  that,"  and 
this  wheel-horse  was  filled  with  consternation. 

T  saw,  if  he  wished  to  do  right,  he  was  afraid,  and 
with  manifest  disgust  got  mc  out  of  the  presence.  As 
soon  as  I  gained  the  street  a  lady  addressed  me  thus — 

"You  arc  the  candidate  for  mare?" 

"Yes,  on  the  denif>cratic  ticket." 

"Well,  that's  the  one;  my  husband  and  my  thra 
boys  are  all  votcis,  and,"  she  continued,  "if  you'll  pram- 
ise  to  let  me  put  my  calf  in  the  calaboose  yard  nixt 
sommer,  in  place  of  thaU  repnl)lican  calf  of  Mrs.  Pow- 
ers, I'll  jist  make  the  old  man  and  all  thra  of  the  boys 
vote  for  you.  Will  you,  now?  Yo  see  we  ain't  able 
to  lint  a  pasture." 

"Madam,  your  (Icniocialic  call' shall  have  the  place," 
1  j)r()inptly  replieil. 

A. — "Hest  stroke  yet;  go  on." 

WHlii  man\  thanks  she  courlesied  and  left  mc.  T 
liiiiied    to    go    in    the   dirc-ction    of  my    office,  and  saw 


JOHN    ADDS    VIM    TO    ELECTIONEERING.  229 

what  I  niijTht  have  mistaken  for  a  locomotive,  had  1 
not  particuhirly  noticed  the  machine  before.  It  was 
Ophcleide.  We  collided,  and  the  Ilerr  crushed  my 
hand  with  a  hearty  shake,  and  a  sonorous — 

"H — U  vos  low!*  Johannes  Schmidt,  wic  geht  cs — 
das  ish  how  vas  sie — oder  you  all  tier  dime?" 

I  understood  him  to  he  speakin^^  to  me  in  a  very 
friendly  manner,  and  replied  that  T  was  quite  well. 
"How  are  you?"  I  asked. 

"Ich  hin  <>;anz  wohl — das  vas  all  der  dime  so  "-ood 
as  never  vas — und  Herr  Schmidt,  1  comes,  der  prass 
pan  mit  und  sarenad — hy  Zehn  Uhr.     So!  huh!  so!" 

I  told  Mr.  Ophcleide  I  wished  to  pay  him  something 
for  his  work,  under  a  mistake,  for  me. 

"Das  vas  all  recht,  Ich  wunche  kein  geld — money — 
Meester  Ilannare  macht  es  all  gfanz  und  «-ar  <root.   So! 

O  Oct 

huh!  so!  Und  I  goes — der  poys  zu  sehen — see  und 
vill  goot  moosic  machen — py  Zehn  Uhr."| 

Wishing  to  patronize  him  on  account  of  his  honest 
mistake,  and  knowing  that  Shanor  didn't  keep  a  drink- 
ing saloon,  and  sold  nothing  stronger  than  cider,  T  said 
to  Mr.  Ophcleide  "Yah!"  and  we  parted. 

A. — "Mr.  Shanor  enjoyed  the  serenade?" 
"I  wish  he  had.     I   continued    my  way  towards   m\ 
office.     A  man  called    my  attention   to   a   hurrying  fe- 
male who  was  now  wildly  gesticulating,  and  on  closer 
approach,  hailed  me — 


*H — llvuslow!  Simply  :i  coiifoiiiuliiiy  of  llic  iiilrrjcction  licllo  !  willi 
other  Eiij;li.sli  words. 

tZeliii  IJlir  ;  the  Ccrniiui  lor  tfu  o'clock,  iironouncod,  zano  oor.  There 
was  a  Mr.  Slianoi',  who  kept  an  ice  cream  saloon,  and  wlioni  tlie  (!er- 
nnins  called  Khavnoor  :  hence  the  mistake. 


230  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"Mr.  Dr.  Smith— Mr.— wait!" 

I  stopped,  and  as  she  came  up  I  saw  she  was  very 
much  excited.  What  could  she  want?  What  was  the 
matter?  She  impetuously  unburdened  herself  as  fol- 
lows: 

"Mr.  Smith,  I  can't  stand  these  wrongs  any  longer; 
it's  more  than  any  woman  can  stand;  and  I  think  it's 
high  time  for  the  poor  women  to  have  some  lawful 
rights,  and — " 

"Madam:"  I  interrupted,  "you  are  mistaken  in  the 
person.  I'm  no  legislator,  senator,  governor,  lawyer, 
or  mayor  yet.  I  can't  give  you  relief.  What  do  you 
wish  me  to  do?" 

"That's  what  I  was  coming  to.  There's  Mrs.  Du- 
senberry — and  she  a  republican,  too — Mrs.  Dusenber- 
ry's  old  hen  and  every  last  one  of  her  chickens  scratched 
up  my  bunch  beans,  the  early  yaller  six  weeks  beans, 
too,  and  they  was  growin'  so  nice — " 

"But,  madam,"  I  rather  impatiently  interrupted, 
"there's  no  law  made  and  provided  for  such  cases, 
even  if — " 

"1  know  that," she  vehemently  interrupted,  "T  found 
that  out  when  I  went  to  that  republican  mayor;  an'  1 
want  to  know  if  I  make  my  husliand  and  my  boj's 
vote  for  you,  you  won't  make  a  law  lo  slop  a  neigh- 
bor woman's  chickens  iVom  scratchin'  up  another 
neighbor  woman's  early  beans;  that's  what  1  want; 
and  1  lliink  the  poor,  oppressed  women  ought  to  iiave 
their  lights,  and  \-ou  are  a  democrat,  and  1  was  told 
believed  in  woman's  rights.  Won't  you? — that's  a 
man." 

'■'•1  am  a  democrat,  and    1   want  tlu'   ladies  lo  liave    all 


JOHN    ADDS    VIM    TO    ELKCTIONEEKI  N(;.  ^31 

necessary  ris^hts  by  law — l)iit  can't  you  <^cl  redress 
through  existing  laws?" 

"I'd  like  to  know  how,  when  there  ain't  no  law," 
she  snappishly  answered. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  can  bring  an  action  against  the  chick- 
ens, either  for  trespass  or  damage  to  the  beans." 

"Whoever  heard  of  suing  a  chicken  .^"  she  exclaimed, 
"and  that's  just  the  way  you  men  make  fun  of  a  wo- 
man when  she  wants  her  rights,  lawfully — and  if  that's 
your  opinion  you  can  'jist'  elect  yourself,  for  me;"  and 
away  she  went,  before  I  could  recover  from  my  sur- 
prise, or  explain.  • 

A." — "Some  lady  will,  if  your  hypothetical  reader  has 
any  lady  friends,  construe  that  interview  as  a  sly  Hing 
at  the  woman's  rights  movement." 

"Oh,  no.  Besides,  that  infant  demand  has  long  since 
grown  beyond  my  recognition  or  control. 

During  the  next  ten  minutes  there  were  onl\  11  \e 
demands  of  male  and  female  applicants  for  the  repub- 
lican calf's  place  in  the  calaboose  yard.  I  very  hon- 
estly, Init  foolishly,  told  every  one  of  them  that  the 
place  was  promised,  instead  of  promising  it  to  every 
one,  according  to  the  present  improved  method  of 
electioneering.  I  had  only  a  few  minutes  to  election- 
eer before  supper,  and  as  it  was  my  custom  to  stay  at 
home  from  6  p.  m.  to  7  a.  m.,  unless  called  out  profes- 
sionally, I  thought  I  could  do  no  better  than  see  Ho- 
nore  and  ask  him  how  much  the  republican  majority 
would  be  increased.  I  was  certain,  so  far,  of  two 
preachers,  Honore,  Pat  Flannagan,  and  probably  of 
the  four  votes  in  the  family  of  the  woman  (Mrs.  Mo- 
riarty)  whose  democratic  calf  I  had  promised  the  place 
in  the  calaboose   yard;  and,   I   had   almost  forgotten, 


232  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

perhaps,  Mr.  Arndul.  On  my  way  to  Honore's  I 
passed  a  saloon,  in  the  front  of  which  there  was  a 
crowd;  one  of  the  number  talking  rather  boisterously, 
and  as  I  could  hear,  concerning  the  election.  His  back- 
was  to  me  as  I  approached;  I  saw  he  was  intoxicated, 
and  just  as  I  got  opposite — though  he  could  not  yet 
see  me,  he  yelled — 

"Rah  f  Jones!  Bul-f 'r  Jones!"  At  this,  some  one 
who  saw  me  so  near,  touched  him,  but  as  he  turned  he 
began  to  repeat — 

"Rahf'rjos — mith!  Rah  f'r  Smith — doggone  zat 
name-ic-so  long  an'  'ard  Pezzer  cantreccolex't." 

The  crowd  laughed  heartily  at  the  brevity  of  Mr. 
Arndul's  (for  it  was  he)  memor3\  His  explanation  of 
why  he  was  hurrahing  for  Jones,  was  not  entirely  sat- 
isHictory,  as  I  never  was  profoundly  impressed  with 
the  belief  that  my  name  was  so  long  and  hard  to  re- 
collect as  all  that.  However,  I  passed  on  and  found, 
on  inquiry,  that  Mr.  Honore  had  not  been  to  the  store 
since  dinner. 

It  was  now  supper  time,  and  1  went  to  close  my 
office  and  conclude  the  electioneering.  I  found  at  the 
office  a  warm  democratic  friend  from  the  country,  who 
said  he  had  come  in  to  help  me  that  evening  and  the 
next  day.  This  was  encouraging,  and  1  thanked  him 
kindlv  for  his  self-sacrificing  kindness.  He  had  been 
a  candidate  for  sheriff,  and  knew  much  about  the  ways 
and  means  of  electioneering.  lie  liad  a  paper  with 
the  names  of  fifteen  of  the  i)icsenl  and  cx-officers, 
democratic,  of  the  county  and  town,  and  told  me,  that 
according  to  assessment,  he  would  average  li\c  dollars 
a  piece  from  these  parties. 

"For  what?"  I  innocently  asked. 


JOHN    ADDS    VIM    TO    ELECTIONEERING.  233 

"For  what!"  he  echoed, 

"Yes,  for  what?"  I  repeated,  "for  what  purpose  do 
you  want  that  sum  of  money?" 

"Well,  if  you  ain't  the  greenest  candidate  I  ever 
heard  of,"  he  answered,  with  marked  surprise.  "For 
what!  Well  to  go  round  to-night  and  keep  the  ball 
rolling — to  let  the  boys  have  no  rest  till  they've  voted. 
That's  what." 

I  then  told  him  I  was  thankful  for  his  fricndsliip, 
but  I  did  not  wish  him  to  do  an  injury  to  himself  in 
my  behalf,  and  would  not  permit  him  to  wrong  me  by 
unfair  electioneering.  , 

"Well,  John,  if  you  wasn't  so  green  Pd  get  mad," 
he  replied.  "I'll  do  what  I  want  to  do  on  niv  own 
hook,  and  must  be  at  work,"  and  bidding  me  good  af- 
ternoon, went  away. 

I  went  to  supper,  was  stopped  on  the  way  by  several 
unheard  of  friends,  who  professed  unbounded  good  will 
and  intentions,  but  each  and  every  one  closed  with  a 
request  of  some  favor.  Politics  seemed  to  appear  in  a 
new  garb,  and  it  looked  very  much  like  unto  that  worn 
by  selfishness. 

Arriving  at  home,  I  was  happy  in  the  thought  of 
some  lest,  as  the  last  day  was  gone  of  the  "so-called" 
canvass.  I  found  my  wife  had  been  bored  to  death 
with  half  a  dozen  meddlesome  women — among  them 
Mrs.  Bonham  and  Mrs.  Goldman,  who  had  heard  the 
awful  things  about  me  from  their  jdIous  husbands,  and 
di'ummed  up  a  squad  of  Job's  comforters  to  come  and 
condole  with  poor,  forlorn  sister  Smith.  Then  my 
wife  told  me  that  Mrs.  Sharpnose's  boy  had  been  sev- 
eral times  to  see  me  at  the  office  and  at  home,  Init 
couldn't  find  me. 
— ^o 


234  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"What  does  slie  want?"  I  asked. 

"The  boy  said  that  that  fighting  Irishman — what 
ever  his  name  is — had  been  hanging  around  their  house 
all  the  afternoon,  to  whip  Mr.  Sharpnose  when  he 
came  out." 

"That  can't  be  true,  because  I've  seen  Mr.  Flanna- 
gan  since  noon — yes,  a  good  part  of  the  afternoon,"  I 
answered,  "and  besides  he's  under  bonds  of  $500  to 
keep  the  peace  with  Mr.  Sharpnose." 

"Anyhow,"  resumed  my  wife,  "Mr.  Sharpnose  is 
afraid  to  set  his  foot  out  of  the  door,  and — " 

"Mister  Smith!  Oh,  Mr.  Smith!  Do  come!  For 
mercy's  sake  come!"  broke  in  starthng  tones  on  me 
and  my  wife,  cutting  short  her  remarks.  "Do  come 
right  away.     I  hear  him  this  l)lessed  minit — run!" 

Here  Mrs.  Sharpnose — for  it  was  she — pausing  for 
breath,  I  asked : 

"What  is  the  matter.  Madam  ?" 

"Oh,  that  terrible  fighting  Irishman,  Flanelgin,  that 
you  sent — no,  I  don't  say  that  neither,  but  somebody 
sent,"  she  rapidly  went  on,  "to  waylay  and  beat  poor 
Mr.  Sharpnose  to  death.  He's  at  the  back  gate  now, 
an'  I  hear  'im  bangin'  with  his  shilly-bludgcon  now. 
Come!" 

I  went  i^ost  haste  to  investigate  this  plain  and  highly 
aggravated  case  of  "intimidation" — it  would  be  called 
"bulldozing"  now.  On  the  way  I  was  hailed  by  the 
city  marshal  who  was  Just  l)ehiu(l,comingdouble-quick. 
I  paused  al  the  gale  of  I  he  besieged  castle  of  .Sharp- 
nose to  await  the  reinforcement  of  the  marshal,  while 
Mrs.  Sharpnose  rushed  through  this,  the  front  gate, 
and  into  the  house,  to  see  if  the  lord  of  the  castle  still 


JOHN    ADDS   VIM  TO  ELECTION  KE RING.  235 

lived;  to  learn  if  succor  liad  arrived  too  late.     Oncom- 
ing up  the  marshal  asked : 

"What's  the  row?"  ami  passing  me  a  note,  with  a 
grim  smile,  said:  "As  I  saw  Mr.  Flannagan  not 
more  than  ten  minutes  ago  in  another  part  of  town, 
electioneering  for  you  in  quite  another  way,  though 
unusual  for  him,  I  don't  understand  that  note;  and  I 
shall  defer  your  arrest  till  I  look  some  farther  into  the 


case." 


I  read  the  note;  here  it  is: 

"•Mister  the  City  Marshal,  Sir: 

You  will  please  to  come  as  quick  as  ever  vou  can 
tq  our  house  an'  arres  a  irishman  a  patterick  lla'nnelgin 
he  is  a  lain'  in  wate  fur  my  husban'  poor  man  not  abil 
to  tend  to  his  bisnis  this  blessid  aftrnoon  nor  nothin', 
he  is  at  the  back  gait  this  verry  minit  with  his  shilly- 
club  also  I  want  you  to  arres  Mr.  Smith  az  I  was  tola 
he  sent  Mr.  f^anelgin  to  beat  up  an'  fite  Mr.  Sharp- 
nose  poor  man  never  h:n-min'  a  sole  in  his  life  come 
rite  off 

an'  oblige 

Sary  Ann  Sharpnose. 

P.  S.  do  come  az  quick  az  ever  you  kin  I  hear  him 
tryin'  to  beet  doun  the  back  gait  y'rs  twel  deth 

O.    Xl..    o. 

Having  read  the  note,  I  told  the  marshal  we  would 
first  go  and  arrest  the  so-called  Mr.  Flannagan. 

Mr.  Sharpnose's  residence  was  on  the  corner  of 
Broad  street  and  Goose  alley — where  there  was  a  side 
or  back  gate,  as  they  called  it,  whereat  the  formidable 
besieging  party  was  supposed  to  have  entrenched  him- 
self for  operations. 


236  JOHN    SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

On  our  way  thither,  and  just  as  we  had  flanked  the 
castle  and  sighted  the  enemy,  the  shutters  and  sash  of 
one  window  of  the  closely  closed  domicil  suddenly 
opened,  and  Mrs.  S.,  with  disheveled  hair  and  streamnig 
eyes,  besought  us  to 

"Hurry — do — oh,  thank  the  Lord  there's  the  mar- 
shal at  last!"  whereupon  peered  forth  the  haggard, 
terror-stricken  face  of  the  indomitable  defender  of  the 
garrison.  Philander  Sharpnose. 

"Take  'im  to  jail  gentlemen;  he's  been  layin' at  that 
ofate  to  murder  me  the  whole  afternoon,"  and  the  com- 
mander,  after  issuing  these  orders,  disappeared.  On 
near  approach  we  found  the  enemy  compromising — for 
he  was  not  lying  in  wait  altogether — he  was  laying 
mostly  in  the  gutter — at  least  the  armed  half,  while 
the  retreating  half  occasionally  gave  the  gate  a  kick, 
which  rattled  the  latch  and  sent  terro-r  to  the  occupants 
of  the  doomed  castle.  On  close  recomioissancc^  we 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  if  he  were  lying  in  wait  at 
all,  he  was  either  waiting  to  get  sober,  or  get  some- 
thing to  eat,  as  he  was  an  unmistakable  tramj),  anil 
was  very  drunk,  if  not  very  hungry.  lie  carried  the 
customarv  through  baggage  check— a  short,  rough  stick, 
with  a  hook  on  the  end,  on  which  was  hung  a  small 
bundle  in  a  soiled  bandana. 

"  'Mr.  Flannagan  lying  in  wait,  with  a  bludgeon,'  " 
remarked  the  ollicer.  "'Mr.  Sharpnose  unable  to  get 
out  to  his  business!'"  then  addressing  me,  said:  "Mr. 
Smith,  I  intended  to  vote  for  you,  but  this  clear  case 
of  intimidation  discourages  me.  Help  me  raise  the 
siege." 

We  lifted  the  tramp  to  his  feet,  gave  him  a  rousing 
shake  to  stir  his  counsciousness,  when  he  spake: 


JOHN    ADDS  VIM  TO  ELECTIONEERING  237 

"Folks  in  zat  'ouse  all  dead?  Been  yei*  ever  since 
'fo  dinner,  knockin — I  wan'  suzzin  'teat,  awfu"ungry." 

I  gave  the  marshal  a  dollar  and  requested  him  to  see 
the  unfortunate  man  had  a  good  meal  and  lodging. 

During  supper  I  w^as  interrupted  several  times  by 
anxious  friends;  notably  among  them  were  three  or  four 
more  with  saloon  bills,  of  various  amounts,  with  urgent 
demand  to  settle  before  election.  Of  course  my  wife 
didn't  understand  this,  and  I  got  a  good  lecture  there- 
on. I  was  disposed  to  regard  all  the  saloon-keepers  as 
a  class  of  swindlers,  but  I  found  after  the  election,  that 
they,  to  a  certain  extent,  had  been  cheated.  That  is, 
the  bummer  friends  of  a  candidate  run  a  big  bill  and 
tell  the  saloon  man  they  were  authorized  by  the  vic- 
timized candidate  to  do  so;  and  further  tell  him,  if  the 
candidate  don't  pay,  they  will;  but  to  lie  sure  and  send 
the  bill  in  before  election.  I  think  they've  got  too 
well  educated  now  for  that  dead-beat  dodge. 

Between  supper  and  bed  time  there  was  more  elec- 
tioneering done  by  my  friends  for — themselves — than 
I  had  done  during  the  whole  canvass.  They  repre- 
sented all  shades  and  grades  of  interest — self-interest 
predominant.  I  was  satisfied  that  there  was  but  one 
desideratum  to  make  my  election  certain — that,  a  fat 
office  for  every  one  of  the  qualified  voters  in  Bunkum- 
ville.  I  went  to  bed  at  1 1  o'clock,  wearied  and  with 
sore  misgivings  of  the  issue  on  the  morrow. 

"Help!  Murder!  For  mercy  sake,  get  up,  Mr. 
Smith — quick — there  are  robbers  in  the  house" — this 
came  on  my  gradually  awakening  senses,  followed  by  : 

"Do  get  up,  they've  turned  over  the  china  cupboard, 
I  know." 


23S  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

"Crash!"  I  was  now  awake,  and  springing  out  ot 
bed,  seized  my  revolver  and  rushed  into  the  hall,  as 
the  clock  struck  two.  Then  came  another  "crash" — 
and  I  was  satisfied  it  was  from  brass  instruments  in 
front  of  the  house.  I  supposed  the  several  crashes, 
w^ith  the  interval  of  perfect  quiet,  was  what  they  call- 
ed a  prelude,  for  they  had  given  at  least  two  or  three 
crashing  blasts,  and  then  came  "Hail  to  the  Chief." 
Chief  of  what?  What  in  the  name  of  old  Harry  did 
these  thundering  fools  mean  by  stirring  up  a  man  in 
that  savage  manner,  at  two  o'clock  a.  m.,  to  play  Hail 
to  the  Chief!  I  wished  I  was  a  full  panoplied  and 
painted  Sioux  chief,  I'd  have  made  a  sortie  and  scalped 
the  entire  band.  I  reluctantly  laid  the  pistol  aside,  and 
listened  eagerly,  not  to  the  music,  but  for  the  end  of 
that  piece  and  their  retreat.  After  hailing  the  chief 
they  hailed  "Columbia,"  and  to  keep  up  this  hail  storm, 
they  hailed  John  Smith,  by  yelling  "'Rah  for  Smith," 
and  pounding  on  the  door. 

My  wife  came  timidly  to  me  and  licgged  me  not  to 
open  the  door — they  must  be  bad,  or  drunk  to  come  at 
such  a  time;  they  might  murder  me;  it  was  very  late; 
honest  people  would  come  sooner.  I  prevailed  on  her 
to  go  back  to  bed,  with  a  promise  that  I  would  not  go 
out  or  let  them  in.  However,  I  was  myself  deceived. 
No  man  can  properly  estimate  the  storming  strength  of 
a  serenading  party,  l)acked  by  untold  lager,  unless  he 
is  a  candidate  situated  just  as  I  was  when  this  untimely, 
overwbebiiing  attack  was  made.  I  waited  impatiently, 
it  seemecl  hours,  niav  br  not,  lor  them  to  go,  but  they 
soon  merged  llie  serenatk-  into  a  r/iarivari^  with  dis- 
c(jrdant  blasts  on  their  horns,  and  kicks  and  raps  on  my 
door,    till    the  din    was    intolerable,    and     I    was    mad 


JOHN    ADDS   VIM  TO  ELECTIONEERING.  239 

enough  to  face  or  fight  any  thing  to  get  relief;  so  jerk- 
hig  open  the  door,  I  fairly  howled  with  rage; 

"What  in  h — thunder  do  }'ou  want?  What  do  you 
mean  by  mobbing  a  man's  house  this  way?" 

"Frage  der  pairdon — das  vas  ask  de  exskoose  von 
der  lierr  Schmidt,  all  der  zeit — der  time— Ich  bin  all 
der  dime  Herr  Ophcleide,  so!  huh!  so!  und — " 

"Hello!  JhonlofT  Smittowhisky,"  began  the  intox- 
icated, impudent  American  secretary  of  the  band,  then 
resuming :  "Trot  'em  out,  my  old  Russian,  were  d- 
dry  as  powder-ic-'orns — ole  Saharah's  des'rt  was  jist 
Monsieur  Noah's  irrigation  to  des'cated  condish'n  ic 
this  band  o'  Gideon." 

"Set  'em  up!   Set  'em  up,  Johnny,  ole  boy." 

"Perdoose  the  dyestufF,  ole  boss." 

"Pring  out  der  schnapps,  Herr  Smit."     • 

And  I  can't  say  in  how  many  various  waj's  and 
tongues  they  clamored  for  drink.  I  told  them  repeatedly 
that  there  was  not  a  drop  of  any  kind  of  drink  in  the 
house  except  water.  The}'  disbelieved  me,  crowded 
past  me  into  the  hall,  knocking  over  and  breaking  the 
hat-rack  and  two  umbrellas.  Half  the  band  were  trying 
to  play  Yankee  Doodle,  while  the  other  was  tooting 
away  on  Dixie;  then  this  bipartite  medley  was  changed 
to  a  multipartite  discord,  wherein  each  performer  was 
on  a  solo  of  his  own,  and  I  heartily  wished  it  was  so  low 
that  I  couldn't  hear  it,  or  the  band  was  so  low  in  a  cer- 
tain unmentionable  place  that  it  could  never  repeat  such 
an  outrage  on  civilization. 

The  sharp  secretai'y  remarked  to  the  boys,  when  I 
told  them  I  had  nothing  to  drink  in  the  house,  that — 

"That's  too  thin,  boys;  plenty  in  the  cellar."  They 
would  have  made  a  raid   on  the  cellar,  but  fortunately 


340  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

there  was  no  cellar  to  my  dwelling — I  had  built  for 
health.  You  know  how  a  man  can  appreciate  such  a 
serenade,  in  a  close  hall,  under  such  circumstances.  I 
tried  to  think  of  some  way  to  get  rid  of  themi  I  wish- 
ed I  had  even  lightning  whisky  that  would  strike  them 
down  on  the  spot,  any  way  to  quiet  the  noise,  if  I 
should  have  to  have  them  all  carted  off  before  morn- 
ing. I  was  tortured  with  this  till  about  three  o'clock, 
when  I  remembered  having  recently  prepared  for  my 
wife  a  quart  of  bitters  with  wine,  taraxacum  and  aloes 
— dose,  dessert  spoonful.  I  was  willing  to  give  a  gross 
of  such  bottles  for  relief,  and  in  my  desperation,  I  men- 
tioned the  bitters  to  the  secretary.  That  was  all — they 
had  to  be  produced.  The  taste  was  pleasant  as  could 
be  made,  and  it  wasn't  over  one  minute  till  the  bottle 
was  empty.  But,  to  my  utter  discomfiture,  they  be- 
gan to  blaze  away  with  renewed  energy.  I  thought 
my  remedy  was  worse  than  the  disease;  I  was  think- 
ing of  ordering  them  out,  when  I  noticed  Mr.  Oph- 
cleide,  with  an  expression  of  anxiety,  take  his  huge 
brass  columbiad  from  his  mouth,  lay  his  left  hand  en- 
quiringly on  his  comprehensive  stomach,  and  feelingly 
rem<ark: 

"Das  vas  bauchweh!*"  I  bowed  too,  and  promptly 
bid  him  good  night,  thinking  he  was  bowing  himself 
away. 

The  sharp  secretary,  who  had  got  more  than  his 
share  of  the  bitters,  also  liad  weakened;  his  face  was 
jiallid  an<l  expressed  {gainful  emotions,  his   instrument 

•Hauclnveh  :  iironounced  liow  way  ;  the  Ccrmaii  woni  to  cxinvss 
Uiosf  |)e<'iiliarl.viiit('i(;slinKS(>nsali()iisainliii()vii\t!;  iMiiolioiisoxpciiciirca 
by  a  l)(iy  a  sliort  tiiiii'  after  lie  lias  calcn  a  tJioss  of  nii-cu  apiihvs  witlioiit 
salt.  Oitliocpic  similarity  caused  the  bowing  away  ceremony  on  my 
part. 


JOHN    ADDS   VIM  TO  ELECTIONEERINCi.  24I 

hung  silent  in  the  limp  grasp  of  his  nerveless  arm — he 
feebly  articulated — 

"Les  go,  boys-ic-I  ain't  feelin'  well — play'd  ic-out." 
This  he  said,  and  nothing  more. 

From  the  attitudes  and  facial  indications,  I  concluded 
that  the  entire  band  had,  at  last  played  out,  and  they 
hastily  went  out.  I  could  hear  as  they  went  off,  not  the 
occasional  time-marking  toot  on  their  horns,  but  instead 
an  imprecation  or  groan,  till  the  solemn  hush  of  night 
swallowed  up  the  last  faint  echo  from  the  retreating 
band. 

Early  next  morning  there  was  a  flaming  extra,  de- 
tailing the  horrible  sufferings  of  those  poisoned  heroes. 
John  Smith  had  given  good  cheer  to  the  members  of 
the  band,  by  treating  them  to  poisoned  wine.  Dr. 
Swettam  had  been  called  to  see  one  or  two  of  the  un- 
fortunate sufferers,  and  pronounced  the  poison  arsenic 
and  corrosive  sublimate,  and  deserved  great  credit  for 
his  successful  exertions  with  the  stomach-pump  and 
the  hypodermic  use  of  antidotes,  in  saving  his  patients, 
especially  the  worthy  secretary  of  the  brass  band.  The 
truth  is,  the  quack  did  come  near  killing  this  man,  for 
I  saw  him  three  days  after,  and  he  looked  like  he  was 
on  a  protracted  convalescence  from  Asiatic  cholera. 
He  had  hoggishly  gotten  an  overdose  of  the  aloes. 
And — here  ends  the  canvass. 

A. — "There  are  some  unexplained  trifles." 

"I'll  ask  you  to  put  them  in  a  very  brief  conclusion 
— our  fortnight  is  up — but  my  wife  will  not  return  till 
day  after  to-morrow.  So  to-morrow  night  you  may 
write  the  conclusion. 


242  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT 


CONCLUSION. 


With  your  political  experience;  your  insight  into 
the  complex  trickery  of  the  many-wired  electioneer- 
ing machinery;  what  chance  would  you  think  I  had 
for  success,  on  the  morning  of  the  election?  What 
show,  I  will  ask,  did  I  stand,  after  I  had  exhausted 
every  moment  of  the  canvass,  parrying,  with  sturdy, 
direcl  blows,  the  assaults  of  unscrupulous  persons; 
fighting  down  and  rebuking,  in  unqualified  terms,  all 
that  was  manifestly,  or  even  apparently  wrong,  and 
relying  on  my  intelligent,  conscientious  fellow-citizens 
for  successful  support? 

A. — "Paraphrastically  speaking,  about  as  much  as 
the  whilom  mentioned  'un-/<^^;^-ted'  feline  quadruped 
enjoyed  in  Hades." 

"And  that  was  just  my  view.  I  was  happily  mis- 
taken." 

"Mistaken!  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  got  over  8 
votes  of  the  Soo?" 

"I  do;  mean  to  say  more;  I  was  elected!  By  61 
majorty!     A  gain  of  105!" 

A.— "Elected!     How  on  earth  was  it?" 

"Well,  you  see  I  had  determined  to  run,  if  I  ever 
tlid  run  for  office,  <>ii  a  fair  and  honest  basis.  ^  ou  see 
I  had  the  implicit  confidence  that  belongs  to  inexper- 
ience; for  1   believed    then  1  couUl    be   elected   honor- 


CONCLUSION.  243 

ably,  and  it  was  quite  five  years  after  before  I  saw  inv 
mistake." 

A. — "Mistake?     Tbeii  you  mean  you  were  elected 

unfairh'?" 

"Oh,  no!  Only  according  to  the  ways  and  means 
then  and  now  provided  in  such  cases.  Though  I  was 
under  the  impression  for  a  long  time  that  all  those 
parties  who  had  shown  bad  motives,  were  awed  by 
sterling  integrity  (?),  and  had  expiatingly  voted  for  me. 
I  have  wished  often  that  this  agreeable  illusion  hadn't 
been  swept  so  suddenly  and  ruthlessly  away.  It  was 
a  comfort:  the  deception." 

A. — "Swept  away  suddenly?     How?" 

"It  occurred  over  five  years  after  the  election.  My 
good  friend,  the  truly  good  Honore,  sickened  and  died. 
He  left  me  and  another  friend  of  his,  administrators. 
We  were  overlooking  his  papers  one  day,  and  found 
them  systematically  endorsed  on  the  outside,  and  neat- 
ly tied  in  separate  parcels  with  red  tape.  There  was 
one  bundle  that  had  become  untied  and  scattered  pro- 
miscuously among  the  other  bundles.  I  went  to  work 
to  collect  these,  and  to  be  sure  that  they  were  properly 
arranged,  had  to  open  each  separate  paper  to  examine 
and  learn  its  exact  place.  The  first  paper  was  that 
very  same  Spread  Eagle  Saloon  bill — ^there  the  '160 
D-k-s' — I  knew  what  d-k-s  meant — yes,  there  in 
plain  hand — but  not  as  vivid  as  the  brand  in  my  soul — 
the  Conchas  too,  and  all — at  the  bottom  was — 

"Rece'd  payment  in  full,  pr.  Mr.  E.  Honore,  this 
April  6th,  1 868. 

S.    DODSON." 


344  JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 

Every  one  of  that  scattered  batch  of  papers  was  a 
receipted  bill,  most  of  them  the  identical  bills  that  had 
been  sent  to  me  before  election;  all  concluding: 
"Rece'd  in  full,  or  paid  in  full,  by  Mr.  E.  Honore."  I 
say  all,  I  didn't  get  to  see  them  all,  for  I  had  examined 
enough  to  sum  up  over  $500,  when  there  were  five  or 
six  remaining  I  could  not  look  into,  and  I  heartily 
wished  then  for  his  sake,  and  ever  since  for  mine,  I 
hadn't  seen  one  of  them. 

A. — "Why?  And  why  couldn't  you  look  into  the 
remaining  five  or  six?" 

Because  the  outside  endorsed  paper  came  just  be- 
tween those  I  had  looked  at  and  those  I  had  not  ex- 
amined.    This  outside  paper  was  simply  endorsed: 

"J.  S.  Camp. 

TO  BE  de:stkoyed  without  openinc;,  if 
April,  1873,  has  Passed." 

Generous,  good  soul !  He  had  considered  my  feel- 
ings so  much,  even  when  he  made  that  endorsement. 
He  was,  sometime  before  death,  in  l)a(l  health,  and,  1 
presume,  contemplated  me  as  an  administrator,  and 
didn't  want  me  to  see  all  he  had  done  for  me,  unless 
really  necessary. 

A. — "Then  why  didn't  he  destroy  the  j^apers  liim- 
self?" 

He  was  a  man  that  was  strict  in  business  affairs,  and 
1  i)itsume  he  wanted  those  receipts  held  till  the  statute 
of  liniitatii)ii  iLiuleied  them  worthless.  'Plu- time  had 
expired  nearh  sixty  days  before.  So  I  should  have 
destroyed  them  wiflioul  opening;-.      1    should    not  have 


CONCLUSION.  245 

known  what  "J.  S.  Camp."  meant,  hail  the  l)uii(llc  re- 
mained securely  tied. 

A. — "John  Smith  Campaign?" 

Yes;  and  there  were  three  very  sad,  much  to  be  re- 
gretted sequels,  and  one  happ\  one,  in  connection  with 
that  campaign.     The  happy  one  was  a  marriage. 

A.— "A  marriage?     Who?  and  how?" 

Well,  that  "Susie"  note  that  troubled  my  wife,  you 
remember  that  she  j^icked  up  in  the  hall,  that  memor- 
able Sunday  morning,  was  dropped  by  the  printer's 
devil  when  he  picked  up  the  Gay  note.  His  sister, 
Susie  Brown,  was  affianced  to  a  worthy  young  man 
who  was  an  employe  of  the  Republican  office,  John 
Simpson.  Susie  wished  to  have  an  escort  to  church, 
and  sent  this  little  paper  to  Johnny.  It  didn't  reach 
it's  destination,  and  producetl  a  slight  ripple  in  our  do- 
mestic pool. 

The  first  of  the  sad  sequels  was  the  death,  one  week 
after  the  election,  of  Mr.  Blackman.  He  was  beset 
by  both  parties,  or  the  vultures,  as  \  said  before,  of 
both  parties.  The  opposition  told  him  I  was  trying 
to  scare  him  into  voting  our  ticket,  or  intimidate  him 
from  coming  out  to  vote  theirs;  our  vultures  fought 
this,  and  between  the  two,  the  poor  fellow  got  no  rest, 
and  of  course  died  from  injuries  that  could  have,  with 
quiet,  been  repaired.  I  had  one  hard  thought  con- 
cerning Blackman,  in  regard  to  the  five  dollar  note. 
I  feared  he  had  given  it  to  me,  under  such  solemn  as- 
surances, knowing  it  was  bad;  but  1  subsequently 
learned  that  Farrin  had  distributed  several  counterfeit 
bills  on  the  same  bank  and  of  the  same  denomination. 

The  second  sad  sequel  was  the  trial  of  Pat  Flanna- 
gan    for   the   murder   of  Daniel    Blackman.     He   w^as 


246  JOHN   SMITH,  DEMOCRAT. 

acquitted  after  the  second  heaving,  but  it  was  sad  to  see 
the  terrible  warping  this  judicial  investigation  got 
from  political  heat.     It  don't  seem  any  better  now. 

The  last  and  saddest  of  these  sequences  was  my 
sudden  discovery  of  how  badly  I  had  been  deceived  in 
attributing  my  success,  in  the  election,  to  good  motives 
on  the  part  of  the  community,  instead  of  the  same 
old  prime  mover  of  all  human  action,  self-intere^. 
The  death  of  my  best  and  noblest  friend  was  sad  enough, 
but  such  inscrutable  occurrences  belong  to  the  all-wise 
providence  of  Him  who  would  then,  wills  now  and 
all  the  time,  that  men  would  be  actuated  by  such 
motives  as  I  then,  very  shortsightedly,  ascribed  to  a 
majority  of  them. 

I  was  not  turned  out  of  the  church,  as  wiser  coun- 
sel than  Bonham's  or  Goldman's  prevailed;  yet  I  was, 
and  am  now,  regarded  as  a  sort  of  Ishmaelitish  mem- 
ber by  those  intensely  pious  souls  who  assume  to  run 
most  churches  for  their  individual  glorification. 

Subsequent  experience  taught  me  what  I  should 
have  learned  from  the  good  book  at  first,  that  the 
"Love  of  money"  was  then,  and  is  now,  and  will  con- 
tinue to  be,  "The  root  of  all  evil,"  even  unto  the  "last 
man  and  the  last  dollar;"  yet,  1  can't  help  expressing 
the  hope  that  more  men  may  use  their  money  as  did 
my  good  friend.  And  now,  Mr.  hypothetical  or  ac- 
tual reader,  while  you  are  healing  over  with  the 
salve  of  self-interest  the  slight  abrasions  of  my  moral 
anger,  and  plugging  the  deeper  penetrations  with 
llie  ])ultv  of  policy,  I  earnestly  h()j)e  that  this  one, 
that  nuist  have  inadi-  an  impression  on  your  better 
nature,  mav  not  l)e  so  easily  healed  or  concealed; 
hut  that  you  may  always  carry  in  your  iiuier  conscious- 


CONCLUSION.  ^47 

ness — your  sanctum  sanctorutn  of  rij^ht,  the  indelible 
impression  that  money,  as  it  seems  to  be  to  the  moral, 
what  steam  is  to  the  mechanical  world,  the  prime  mo- 
tive power,  should  be  used  to  run  soulless  men  just  as 
steam  is  employed  to  drive  soulless  machinery — to  do 
good,  praisworthy  and  profitable  work.  In  short,  if 
money  is  the  motive,  and  mercenary,  unj^rincipled  men 
are  the  machines  that  give  shape  to  our  political  fab- 
ric, our  only  hope  is,  that  our  machines  may  fall  into 
the  hands  of  such  good  and  skillful  engineers  as  was 
Honore;  and  the  great  motor  applied  in  his  way,  to 
impel  vicious  men  to  do  right. 

In  conclusion,  I  must  ask  the  pardon  of  my  reader 
for  introducing  him  to  vicious  company,  and  shocking 
his  modest  ear  with  language  unrefined.  My  excuse 
is  in  the  oft'  quoted  verse: 

"Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien 
As,  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen." 

So  you  see  that  I  have  exhibited  this  monster  in  her 
different  frightful  phases,  politically  speaking,  only 
once;  just  enough  show  to  accomplish  my  purpose; 
that  is,  to  have  you  hate  the  horrid  thing.  You  know 
very  well,  though,  that  our  frequent  elections  must  nec- 
essarily show  this  same  monster  so  often  as  to  make 
us 

"  Familiar  witii  lier  face." 
And  then — 

"We  first  endure,   then  pity,  thcMi  embrace." 

But  if  you  are  a  man,  you'll  neither  "endure,  pity, 
nor  embrace." 

And  now,  my  perforated  reader,  in  the  language  of 
the  itinerant  showman:  we,  Jamie,  and  John  Smith, 
Democrat,  thank  you  kindly  for  your  liberal  patronage. 


248 


JOHN    SMITH,    DEMOCRAT. 


and  would  announce  .that  the  performance  will  con- 
clude with  a  tilt  on  the  grand  mental  and  moral  see- 
saw of  American  intellectuality.  Walk  right  up  and 
take  a  glass — ("That's  it! — Don't  care  if  I  do! — Long's 
it  you! — As  I  aint  feelin'  well! — Hardly  ever,  but — An' 
fath  an'  I'll  tip  aweedhrap! — Das  vas  der  dalk! — Yah, 
I  dakes  bier! — "John,  ole  fel,  we  aint  smiled  since  elec- 
tion!— Yah!  Yah!  Massajohn,  I'ze  comin'! — Me-is- 
ter  Sme-ith  I  re-areh'  drink  the  drink  of  the  wicked, 
but  ah!" — Hold!  hold!  my  overwhelming  friends,  you 
misunderstand  me,  as  you  did  in  the  canvass — I  don't 
mean  to  treat  that  way.  You  are  too  fast,  as  was 
brother  Goldman,  who  I  see,  wants  a  glass  from  the 
other  end  of  the  see-saw),  in  order  to  get  a  good  com- 
parative view  of  these  petty,  immoral  phases  that  an- 
noyed me  so  during  my  canvass. 

Here's  the  glass;  let  me  show  you  how  it's  done. 
It's  a  great  relief,  by  contrast,  from  the  extreme  of  high 
tragedy  to  that  of  low  comedy;  and  I  often  enjoy  this 
see-saw,  by  conten)plating  these  little  political  vices 
through  my  glass — 


NOW 


AND 


THKN. 


CONCLUSION.  249 

Here  ends  the  performance,  and  as  the  drop  descends, 
I  will  hastily  say,  that  I  may,  possibly,  appear  again, 
when  I  will  exhibit  some  of  the  laughable  haps  and 
mishaps  of  the  election  and  my  administration.  I  bow, 
and  leave  my  parting  admonition  so  plain,  that  it  must 
be  read  and  understood  a  thousand  times  where  the 
injunction  holds  once: 

Otiojc,  ovv  mode  dy^pcQ,;Xcn, 


Good  Night. 


THE    END. 


♦Without  .Tolm's  knowledge  or  consent  I  translate  the  above,  althouuli 

.lohii  says  tilt-  adiiioiiition  is  more  dillieult  to   follow  tlian  the  (ireek  is 

to  comprehend .     Hero  is  the  transl;uioii  :  Vec,  thm,  that  y  be  men. 

A. 


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